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LIBRARY 

OF  TIIK 

University  of  California. 

OIKT   OK 

Mrs.  SARAH  P.  WALSWORTH. 

Received  October,  i8g4. 
^Accessions  No.j^^3^*l .      Class  No, 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/biblemenoflearniOOmathrich 


v\ 


Eii^arvred  £y  E  ii.  Hall  ftara  a.  X'a^^uexreo«yp« 


THE    BIBLE 


AMD 


MEN  OF  LEAliNING; 


IX 


A  COURSE  OF  LECTURES, 


BT 


J.  M.  MATHEWS,  D.  D. 
It 


"TIm  fear  of  the   Lord  h  cho  be|;ini)iDg  of  wls<loqa :    a  good  andenUadine  Imt«  •& 
Umj  that  do  bts  eomnukudmenti  —  Pmtim  cxL  10. 


-^^5-S^ 


0?  THi 


N  E  V\  .  Y  O  R  K  : 
DANIEL    FANSHAW, 

Comer  of  Nassau  and  Ana-street 


1855. 


;f   ■•>..!•  y:     i:) 


LECTUItE   L 

Men<x)f  leai-ning  who  have  fallen  into  Infidelity.        /^ 

LECTURE   n. 

Causes  of   their  Infidelity.  / 

LECl  Ul^  ILL 

Men  of  learning  who  have  embraced  Christianity.     /  Oy 

LECTURE  IV. 

Christianity  contrasted  with  Infidelity  in  its  influence  on  the 
happiness  of  Man  in  this  world.  ^  ^^  y 

LECTURE    V. 

Influence  of  the  Bible  on  the  intellect  of  Man.  .2-  6  «» 

LECTURE  VL 

The  prejudice  that  extensive  learning  is  hostile  to  the  spirit 
of  true  piety. 


100 


oa 


ho 


PREF/aGE. 


The  origin  of  these  Lectures  on  tlie  Harmony  of 
Learning  and  Revelation  may  be  rfe.;n  in  ihc  following 
correspondence. 

New-York,  7tli  Feb.  1843. 

Rev.  Dr.  Mathews, 

Dear  Sir,  During  your  administration  of  the 
affairs  of  the  University,  and  when  maturing  the  enlarg- 
ed system  of  instruction  designed  for  the  Institution, 
you  introduced  a  Professorship  of  Sacred  Literature. 
One  object  of  the  proposed  Professorship  was  to  vindi- 
cate the  Sacred  Scriptures  from  the  objections  often  sup- 
po-.ed  to  arise  from  various  discoveries  in  Science  and 
Letters.  That  part  of  the  design  has  not  yet  been  car- 
ried into  effect;  but  we  believe  that  it  has  become  pe- 
culiarly desirable  at  the  present  time,  to  afford  increased 
opportunities  of  gaining  information  on  these  important 
questions;  and  as  you  have  now  released  yourself  from 
some  of  your  former  multiplied  labors,  we  would  inquire 
whether  you  would  not  undertake  to  prepare  £i  course  of 
public  Lectures  on  the  prominent  subjects  which  such 
a  department  of  instruction  should  embrace. 


8 


PRiCPACK 


In  ^'our  IiiukLs  ilb  y  miglil  be  made  to  assume  a  form 
which  would  iiuduj-  ihem  iutoresting  and  iustructiyc  to 
your  various  heiirei's;  while  they  would  demonstrate  the 
praciicubility  aud  importance  of  rendering  Sacred  Litera- 
ture more  generally  a  prominent  branch  of  instructio^i. 

Several  of  us,  and  others  whom  we  represent  in  this 
request,  have  enjoyed  ilie  pleasure  of  being  associated 
with  you  in  tlie  important  services  you  have  already  ren- 
dered to  the  cause  of  Learning  in  our  city;  and  should 
you  see  fit  to  accede  to  the  proposal  we  now  nmke,  it 
will  give  us  much  satisfaction  to  co-operate  with  you  in 
any  way  which  might  render  your  labors  most  agreeable 
to  yourself  and  most  useful  to  the  interests  of  Truth  and 
Kuowledge. 

We  have  the  honor  to  be, 

Yours,  with  great  respect, 
•Iamils  Tallmadgk,  Thomas  J.  Oakley, 

George  Wood,  John  Johnston, 

Thkodokk  Frklinohuyskn        Valentine  Mott, 
William  Kkst. 


John  Lorimer  Graham, 
M.  Van  Schaick, 
Gk«>ugk  Griswuld, 
Thomah  HoYl), 

TllUMAS  Sl'FKKRS. 

.Ions  C  (tkkkn. 
ronr:  war  \'  \  xi    •;. 


John  Slosson, 
John  W.  Draper, 
William  Curtis  Noyks, 
William  S.  Wktmork, 
John  C.  Hamilton, 
William  Mc  Muurav, 
P.  PKuir, 
VVilliam  B.  Ma  clay. 


prefack.  •  y 

\cw-Yor1<,  14th  February,  1843. 
To  Messrs.  Jamks  TALLiviADtiE,  Thomas  J.  Oakley,  George  VVood, 
John   Joh.nston,   Theodore   Frelinghuysen,   Valektine   Mqtt 
William  Ke.nt,  Esquiros,  &c  &,c. 

Gentlemen, 

I  have  received  your  kind  communication  of  tne  7th 
instant,  and  have  given  it  the  more  careful  attention, 
as  it  comes  from  friends  to  whom  my  memory  will  al- 
ways recur  with  sentiments  of  grateful  regard. 


.K>V 


It  is  very  true  that  I  have  long  been  desirous  to  sec 
the  Branch  of  Learning,  to'  which  you  refer,  introduced 
more  fully  into  our  Literary  Institutions.     The  aspect  of 

^"the  times,  and  opinions  recently  promulgated,  have  also 
grpatly  strengthened  my  convictions  of  its  importance.  An 
impetus  has  been  given  to  the  minds  of  men  within  the 
last  thirty  or  forty  years,  which  has  rendered  progress  in 
Science  rapid  beyond  example.  Nature,  in  her  whole 
varied  extent,  ia  fast  yielding  up  her  secrets.  But  the 
liarmony  and  connection  of  these  discoveries  with  the  lead- 
ing truths  of  the  Scriptures  do  not  yet  seem  to  bo  rightly 
undei-stood,  or  fully  appreciated.     / 

To  use  the  words  of  an  able  reasoner  on  this  subject: 
'*Some  men  in  then-  writings,  and  many  in  their  discoveries, 
go  so  far  as  to  suppose  that  they  may   enjoy  a  dualism 

'  of  opinions;  holding  one  set,  which  they  may  believe  as 
Christians,  and  another  whereof  they  are  convinced  as 
Philosophers.  One  does  not  see  how  it  is  possible  to  make 
accordance    between    the    Mosaic    Creation    and   Cuvirr'a 


nio 


I'll  E  PACE. 


\  discoveries :  anotlier  thinks  the  history-  of  the  dispersions 
■   incompatible  with  thie  number  of  dissimilar  languages  now 
existing:  a  third  considers  it  extremely  difficult  to  explain 
the   origin   of  all  mankind  froni  one  common  parentage. 
So  far,  therefore,  from  considering  Religion,  or  its  Science 
Theology,  as  entitled  to  sisterhood  with  other  sciences^  it 
is  supposed  to  move  on  a  distinct  plane,  and  to  presej^v^e 
^•' ai  perpetual  parallelism  with  them;  which,  though  it  pre- 
;    vents  them  from  clashing,  yet  deprives  them  of  mutual 
^support."  niiPAtdO  Jo  \iijl  hr 

But  this  unwarrantable  severance  of  Religion  frbm 
.  Learning  is  not  the  only  evil  suffered  from  some  of  our 
learned  men.  Scepticism  is  always  assuming  new  forms. 
Among  men  of  education  and  refinement  it  now  seldom 
ventures  openly  and  avowedly  to  assail  Christianity.  But 
the  venom  is  not  the  less  dangerous  because  concealed, 
and  the  minds  of  educated  young  men  are  too  frequently 
poisoned  before  they  arfe  aware  of  it^by  the  manner  iand 
connection  in  which  facts  and  theorems'  in  science  are'  pre- 
sented to  them.  It  is  chiefly  in  this  way  that  in  our  day 
learning  has  not  only  been  perverted,  but  also  subjected 
to  unmerited  suspicion  in  the  minds  of  religious  men. 
Such  a  reproach  should  be  wiped  away;  and  recent  dis- 
coveries show  more  and  more  plainly  how  triumphantly 
this  may  be  done.  I  am  persuaded  there  is  not  one, 
among  all  the  sciences  which  have  been  tortured  into  a 
shape  adapted  to  the  purposes  of  infidelity,  which  may 
not  be  made  to  rescue  itself  from  such   an  injurious  -per 


PREFACE.  QlU 

.^:^ version;  and  to  conllite  by  its  own  principles,  when  fully 
V.  imderstood,  the  objections  which  have  been  claimed  to 
nifipring  from  them,.  ;*;^:J^.a  4i  e.iui>.?iiiou  hJiuii  ^  :^iaj-.: 

O'.M  Nor  is  the  work  done,  irheti  Leamirl^  has  thus  re- 
>:> deemed  itself  from  the  attitude  of  liostility  to  Keligion. 
:  It  should  not  be  left  as  standing  upon  neutral  ground. 
:v Science  is. the  natural  ally  of  Revelation.  The  principles 
•'ncff  the  one  were  designed  to  furnish  most  valuable  aid>  in 
i  -establishing  and  illustrating  the  doctrines  of  the  other; 
and  I  deem  it  the  duty  of  Christian  scholars  to  do  what 

•' they  1  oaoyi to  have  ereiy  fresh  discovery  which  learning 
111  brings  to^;  light,  baptized  witli  the  spirit  of  Christianity, 
>jinid  laid  at  the  foot  of  her  altars.  The  consequojice 
J7M  iifould  be  not  only  a  stronger  faitli  in  the  inspiration  of 
l»  :the  Scriptures,  but  an  increased  reh'sh  for  them,  an^  a 
J)  -knore  complete  knowledge  of  the  truths  they  contain.  + 
^^lifTOi'jT  iiave  seen,  with  much  pleasure,  that  especially  of 
Lniiate  this  object  has  engaged  the  attention  of  able  n>en, 
-ffi  ©at  the  field  is  very  extensive,  and  requires  additional 
i(j;Iiabor  before  it  can  be  brought  under  adequate  cultivation, 
boljbi would  esteem  it  a  privilege  to  have  any  share  in  the 
work ;  but  I  must  claim  the  indulgence  of  a  little  time 

.    before  I  engage  in  it. 

!'i'i     My  health   has   suffered    from   the    incessant    labors 

through  which  I  have  passed  during  the  last  twelve  or 

n  uififteen  years.-  Leisure  and  relaxation  have  become  indis- 

^f  'pensable,  to  me.     Indeed  I  already  feel   advantage  from 

Toqthe  respite  I  have  enjoyed  during  the   last  few  months. 


I  am  persuaded, 'feowever,  that  iJiete  iis  ho  Avork  to  which 
I  could  more  readily  or  easily  tirrh'  my  attention,  than 
that  which  you  propose.  Sbrhe' rf  the  subjects  which 
would  be  embraced  in  Buch  a  course  of  instruction  are 
ui ready  familiar  to  me;  On  others  I' have  been  for  years 
(collecting  imaterials  which  I  hopd^^  reiiilei'  useful  to  the 
tjliuse  of  Truth.  Your  reqiiesit  inffi  iMtieo  me  to  bestow 
increased  care  and  labor  upon  th^^h "; 'atld  if  1  shoiild  be 
able  to  prepare  a  course  of  LedtuVd^  'oi*'  Essays  which 
may  be  deemed  of  any  value,  I  wbiild  fsel  liohored  to 
present  them  to  the  Public  wi^h  ybtir  approbation  and 
imder  your  patronage.  ..>;■.'->  •^' ■  ' 

Believe  me,  GentlM^ii?  J  .aoiiaoflduq^ 

n     ' ' .  Yours,  With  «m6efe  regardj 

■^''^  '3r.  M.  Mathews, 

From  the  time  when  I  commenced  the  delivery  of  llic 
lectures  which  grew  out  of  this  cbrK'spolidehce,'  they 
we^e  received  with  a  spirit  of  kindness  for  which  I  am 
Cidled  to  express  my  gratitude;  and  iat  the  request  of 
m«any  among  both  the  clergy  and  laity,  I  have  for  several 
ye^rs  past  employed  m3'self  in  preparing  a  work  which 
might  contribute: to  show  how  effectually  true  learning 
cau  be  made  to  subserve  the  great  interests  of  Religion. 
It  is  a  task  which  has  called  fbtt*  patient  labor;  but  if 
I  have  been  so  happy  as  in  any  degree  to  clear  away  the 
doubts  of  sincere  inquirers  after  trlith,  I  have  an  abun- 
daij^t^  rewar44ii  aeaiU 


The  present  volume  is  .ia  a  great  measure  a  revie>t 
of  men  who.  have  broqglit  ^  their .  Jeaming,  either,  on  thfe 
one  side  to  aasail  Christianity,  or  on  the  other,  to  defend 
it  I  have  endeavored  to  do  full  justice  to  the  attainments 
and  the  characters  of  both ;  and  have  been  careful  to  draw 
my  conclusions  not  only  from  their  published  writings 
but  also  from  their  biographies  as  prepared  by  themselves 
or  by  their  chosen  frien4s*  I  have  made  it  my  object  to 
look  not  only  at  their  productions  but  at  the  men  them-^' 
selves;   not  only  at  their  learning  but  at  their  lives. 

Here  I  have  derived  much  assistance  from  our  Perio<J-] 
ical  Literature.  I  had  occasion  to  observe  in  a  previoU.¥' 
publication,  that  the  Reviews  and  Periodicals  of  our  day 
are  no  longer  to  be  viewed  as  mere  fingerposts  pointing 
to  the  stores  of  knowledge.  They  arc  the  channels  through 
which  many  of  the  best  writers  pour  forth  their  intellec- 
tual treasures,  giving  us  their  own  views  combined  with 
the  views  of  other  men,  find  generally  not  diluted,  but 
distilled  and  condensed.  It  ought  to  be  a  source  of  sin- 
cere thankfulness  in  the  mind  of  every  Christian,  that 
whatever  might  have  been  the  deviations  of  former  times, 
there  is  scarce  a  Periodical  in  the  English  language  of  a 
high  reputation  for  talent  and  learning,  which  does  not 
avow  itself  as  an  advocate  of  Christianity ;  nor  do  I  know 
of  any  subject  on  which  they  have  shown  more  ability, 
than  when  they  have  set  thenaselves  to  analyze  the  cha- 
racter and  the  spirit  of  Infidt^,  and  of  Infidelity. 

I  have  made  seveml  quota^iiEH^  from  these  articles,  and 

'uwive:..- 


1^^  PREFACE. 

am    indebted    to  them    for    many   valuc^blQ,,. suggestions. 

I  have  taken  an  unusually  large  spacQ  in  this  volume, 
for  notes;  and  I,  had  thought,  at  one  time,  of  incorpo- 
rating much  of  the  matter  which  they  contain,  in  the  body 
qf  the  Lectures  themselves.  But  as  many  of  those  who 
had  heard  the  Lectures  wished  them  published  as  d^livert^ 
ed,  I  have  complied  with  their  preference.  Much  that, 
is  contained  in  the  notes,  however,  could  not  well  be  dis- 
pensed with  when  the  discourses  were  to  be  issued  as  a 
work  from  the  press,,,,,   ,,.  ,j  .,^,^^  ^^  ^^j^^,.  ^,^^.^^ 

In  our  contest  with  Infidelity,  the  war  cannot  be  car 
ried  into  Africa  with  toO  much  perseverance  and*  deter- 
mination.    When   the  spirit  and  aim  of  the  Infidel   are 
analyzed  with  a  careful  scrutiny,  "the  whited  sepulchre'^ 
will  often  be  found  to  be  so  "full  of  all  uneleannesS'"^^ 
to  furnish  an  important  comment   on  his  creed.     It  haa? 
been  too  much  the  practice  to  consider  the  rejection  of 
Christianity  rather  as  an  error  or  misfortune,  than  as  a 
crime.     The  Bible  describes  it  as  heinous  sin  against  Godi, 
as  a  wilful  war  against  truth,  and  not  only  against  the 
truth  which  lies  at  the  foundation  of  whatever  is  stable 
and  precious   in  this  world,  but   against  the  sacred  truths 
on  which  rests  all   our  hope  for   the  world  to  come.     lin 
this  light  I  have  endeavored  to  present  it,  and  as  I  have: 
not  shrunk  from  imputing  insincerity  and  a  want  of  goo^ 
faith,  to  the  men  who  have   distinguished  themselves  by; 
their  infidelity,  I  have  felt  it  due  both  to  my  readers  and 


PREFACE.  16 

to  myself,  that  the  proof  of  the  charge  should  be  within 
easy  reach  of  the  reader.  On  such  points  I  have  accord- 
ingly furnished  evidence  in  the  notes,  which  could  not  so 
conveniently  be  introduced  into  the  text  of  the  Lectures/ 
•  Besides;  as  some  of  the  positions  which  I  have  taken 
may  seem  new,  such  as  the  indebtedness  of  the  Greeks  to 
the  Hebrews,  in  science  and  art;  and  as  many  of  the  au- 
thorities by  which  I  sustain  the  views  that  I  present  aref 
libi  easily  accessible,  I  have  extended  the  notes  on  such 
subjects,  that  my  readers  might  have  some  of  the  principal 
references  brought  at  once  before  them. 

.-  vtit  i^ ,  not .  to  -  be  .expected  that  in-  the  Lectures  which 

^re  to;  follow,  the  present  volume,   I, would  presume  to 

CQYQr  ^y^ry  branch  of  science  whioh  shoulcjL,  be  rescued 

feottijlhie  hands  of  infidelity,  and  shown  to,  be,  in  full  har^ 

jmOnj  with  the  Scriptures.     This   must  be  the  work  of 

"BUQcessive  writers.    I  hope  to  do  part  of  it ;   and  will  ei^r 

>deftvor  so  to  classify  the  subjects,  which  I  may  take   up,. 

,lhait  each  volume  will  form  a  work  complete  within  itself, 

iudepondently  of  the  othei-s  which  may  ]:)rccede  or  follow 

•ilL     How  far  I  may  go,  must  depend  on  the  good  pleasure 

f-oi*  Him  who  has  fixed  the  measure  of  my  days  on  earth. 

f3)  have  thus  far  ^und  the  employ  rneutj  a  source,  of  pi ea»ure, 

cand  intend  to  pursue  it  as  the  main  object  of  i^y  future 

f:yeiir!S,:in  ihe  hope  that,  with  the  Diviae  blcscii  ng,  it  may  be 

^abraewhat  usjftil  to  the  great  cause  of  inspired  truth.     In 

bim  (''O^fn  ^m  ol  ifiod  sub  ti  ii^  avcH  I  ,^JiIob£l:iu  iiodi 


ill  tjJni  mM  ^^mi  ^Air  immn'^j  h  mK 


^>i\^fl 


'L1:j  -c'SL' 


till 


';i 


Men  of  Learning  who  have  fallen  into  Infidelity. 


1  Cor.  i.  20. 

"  Where  is  the  scribe  ?      Where  is  the  disputer  of 

this  world  ?'^ 

The  two  great  enemies  of  Divine  Revelation  are 
Superstition  on  the  one  hand,  and  Infidelity  on  the 
other.  The  former  professes  to  believe  in  Christia- 
nity, but  obscures  and  often  buries  it  beneath  the 
inventions  and  traditions  of  men.  The  latter  re 
jects  it,  either  in  whole  or  in  part,  as  untrue  and 
irrational.  But  in  nothing  is  the  difference  between 
the  two  more  decided  and  marked,  than  in  their 
mode  of  assailing  the  truth.  Superstition  generally 
makes  its  assaults  openly  and  without  disguise, 
"going  about  as  a  roaring  lion,  seeking  whom  it 
may  devour."  Infidelity,  at  least  in  its  beginnings^ 
is  usually  both  timid  and  treacherous.     It  masks- 


w. 


FIRST     LECTURE. 


its  earliest  attacks,  and  approaches  like  the  tiger, 
crouching ;  but  when  it  makes  its  spring;  the  bound 
is  the  more  dangerous  and  fatal.  '^  V^^^ 

This  mask  is  not  always  the  same.  It  is  chang- 
ed according  to  times  and  circumstances,  or  accord- 
ing to  the  attainments  and  taste  of  the  men  who 
wear  it.  Some  have  objected  to  the  Bible  on  the 
^lea  that  it  teaches  a  loose  morality,  and  declare 
their  better  feelings  to  be  shocked  at  practices  which 
it  tolerates  and  seems  to  commend.  Others  hesitate 
to  avow  their  faith  in  the  Holy  Book,  because  it 
teaches  doctrines  which,  if  not  irrational,  in  their 
view  are  mysterious  and  unintelligible,  and  there^ 
fore  not  entitled  to  our  belief  A  still  different  class 
fere  found  catching  at  every  seeming  inconsistency 
between  one  part  of  Scripture  and  another ;  and 
instead  of  inquiring  as  candid  judges,  how  the 
discrepancy  may  be  explained  and  removed,  they 
fetrive,  by  every  art  of  special  pleading,  to  render  it 
glaring  and  repulsive. 

But  often  as  Infidelity  has  fled  to  these  and 
similar  subterfuges,  there  is  no  covering  under  which 
it  has  assailed  Christianity  more  injuriously,  than 
when  it  hides  itself  under  the  show  of  Learning ; 


FJKST    LECTURBi  15 

DLor  is  there  a  branch  of  Letters  or  Science  which 
ha^  not  sooner  or  later  been  pressed  into  the  un» 
holy  service.  The  stores  of  antiquarian  lore  have 
been  ransacked,  and  weapons  of  attack  brought 
forth,  the  weakness  of  which  it  was  hoped,  mii^ht 
be  hidden  mider  the  rust  of  ages  which  covered 
^hem^  Ip,  genej:^tions  which  have  but  lately  pass^ 
ed  by,  the  war  was  maintained  in  the  abstruse  and 
liewildering  region  of  metaphysics ;  and  when  such 
assaults  have  been  repelled,  and  all  that  is  certain 
IMid.  fetedi  ii^^  metaphysical  science  vrm  proved  to 
^oiijjthe  side  of  Revelation,  the  enemy  has  made 
new  demonstrations.  He  has  torn  open  the  bowels 
of  the  earth  to  discover  fossil  remains  that  might 
i^ay  something  against  the  Bible;  be  h^/S;  carried 
his  unwearied  observations  into  the  heavens,  ij^ 
hopes  that  he  could  persuade  "the  stars  in  their 
courses"  to  contradict  the  word  of  their  Creator ; 
he  has  even  dissected  and  analyzed  the  human 
frame,  in  hopes  to  find  something  in  the  complexion 
pr  figure  of  the  diversified  tribes  of  our  race  which 
might  contradict  the  inspired  account  pf  th^  prigi- 
fml  creation  of  maa^r '^inx^ijghifO  holim^s^  8i5if  : 
'^fl5k^i^J^?^®^%yy  kn^^-^-^h^t  in  this  noble  and 


16  FIRST      LECTURE. 

ennobling  depaitment  of  knowledge — Physical 
Science — tlio  Infidelity  of  the  present  day  is  most 
ambitious  to  display  itself  It  has  here  a  field 
which  is  not  only  wide,  but  which  is  constantly  and 
rapidly  widening.  The  impulse  that  has  lately 
been  given  to  discoveries  in  the  material  world,  is 
without  a  parallel.  They  are  pervading  ''the  heav- 
ens above  and  the  earth  beneath,  and  the  waters  un- 
der the  earth ;"  and  in  this  wide  range  which  Science 
IK  now  taking,  contributing  at  every  step  to  enlai*gc 
the  boundaries  of  humaii  knowledge  and  huihin 
happiness,  Infidelity  still  aspires  toi  lollow,  and 
views  nothing  too  high  olr  too  sacred  Tor  its  profane 
purposes.  Tt  would  lay  its  hand  oii  toth  the  teles- 
cope and  the  microscope,  and  reaching  from  the  stars 
and  suns  that  are  the  centres  of  other  worlds,  down 
to  the  tiny  insect  which  is  invisible  to  the  naked 
eye,  it  seems  to  hope  that  its  career  may  be  pro- 
longed by  the  amplitude  of  the  field  before  it;  and 
that,  if  detected  and  exposed  in  one  fallacy,  it  may 
fly  to  another,  and  hide  itself  under  some  new  siib- 
teriuge  oi  deceit. 

In  these   profligate   flights  too,  it   has  derived 
advantages  not  only  from  tii6  eiciteinent  always 


F  I  UST       I.  Kc  r  I    KK.  n 

-  i  r.  ill 


attending  new  and  ya:st  discoveries,  but  also  irom 
that  spirit  of  ha^ste  which  impels  all  classes  of  man- 
kind in  the  present  age  of  the  world.  Onward, 
onwaffd  seems  to  be  the  great  watch  word  of  our 
times.  The  traveller  listens  to  it  as  he  steams  his 
way  over  land  and  sea  with  a  speed  that  outstrips 
the  wind.  The  merchant  listens  to  it  as  he  makes 
haste  to  be  rich,  and  turns  away  witli  disgust  from 
patient  toil.  And  while  all  such  pursuits  of  life 
are  stimulated  mto  increased  rapidity  of  pro- 
gress ;  notwithstanding  the  prescriptive  right  of 
the  philosopher  to  be  calm  and  deliberate,  he  also 
is  often  carried  away  by  the  same  ambition  which 
animates  men  around  him.  He  would  have  the 
fable  of  "  Mercury  on  wings  "  ripen  into,  reality.  He 
will  be  satisfied  with  nothing  short  of  a  railroad 
speed  on  the  high^vay  of  knowledge,  and  the 
lightning  of  the  telegraph  must  make  discove- 
ries in  science  with  the  same  despatch  that  it  com- 
municates the  common  occurrences  of  the  pass- 
ing hours. 

But  while  this  spirit  of  progress  with  men  of 
learning  is  to  be  hailed  as  the  harbinger  and  means 
of  inval  uable  good,  jt  is  at  the  same  time  attended 


ih  FIRST      LECTlP^^i? 

with  dang-ers  which  should  never  be"  overlooked. 
The  great  truths  of  Nature  often  lie  deep,  very 
deeply  hidden ;  and  we  are  liable  to  imagine  thai 
We  have  fathomed  them  to  their  depths,  when  we 
have  only  just  touched  their  surface.  Her  works 
and  laws  also  are  far  from  standin<^  alone,  or  iso- 
lated one  from  another.  They  are  all  combined 
into  a  harmonious  system,  of  which  the  parts  migM 
be  considered  as  deformities  or  imperfections,'  ii 
viewed  by  themselves;  and  yet  when  viewed  in 
their  relation  to  the  whole,  are  essential  to  its  beauty 
and  perfection.  In  this  way  our  Creator  has  eii- 
stamped  upon  his  own  works  the  image  of  him- 
self, shewing  that  "he  sees  the  end  from  the  be- 
ginning, and  makes  all  things  work  togetlie¥  for 
good."  And  there  is  danger,  great  danger,  that^  in 
discoveries  recently  made,  and  investigations  hastily 
conducted  by  short  sighted  man,  we  may  leave 
tniany  of  them  in  a  crude  undigested  state,  neither 
reduced  to  their  proper  form,  nor  carried  home  to 
their  proper  place  in  the  great  systems  of  truth  and 
wisdom. 

Now  it  should  always  be  remembered  that  it ' 
is  just  when  scientific  attainments  are  yet  imper- 


fleet,  fresh  and  unmatured,  and  the  bearing  of  dis- 
coveries ^]|^ot|fu^j^j, ascertained,  that  Infidelity  is 
;nost  able  to  array  them  in.  apparent  conflict  with 
the  Scriptures.  "^iyhile^jiljj^Jtviis  iuot  yet  mastered 
the  alphabet  9f,:^ciei^^ji,iii  would  b^ . a  jv^dgP  .of 
the  iiiost  ditppujii  questions,  in  syntax  and  prosody, 
VA., little  learning  is  o»  dangerous  thing;"  dang^t 
<j>us  to  j;|ie  ina,n  l^ii^>elf,  for,  it  often  maies  yn\ 
yain^anjdi,,  pp^lf-^j^  ajso  to  the 

®/f  ruf?H  I^^^M^f  A?^ WS  f^M*  ff^P?-  fl(^fiP  W<J  S^W 

far^  an^  t^^egf.pa,ti^nt  ,p^e,,jtp  g^in  ,f^,;jf^,  l^o^!? 
ledge  before  it  p]f9noiiinces  judgment,  is  learning 
frop  >yhicli^^  tjie  Bi\)\e  h^s ,  qotliing  to  feajr,  s^^^y 
inuch  to  gain.  /Ther^  is  i^cftrcely  a  branch  of  Science^ 
to.yhj<^h  tt^^^ij^b^ery^tiQi^  ^ot  apply  ^  andivif^ej 

hai^  recently  s^en  q-,  remarkable  example  of  it.  It 
must,  be  kif owjt^  to  many  of  us,  that,  when  sojnepf^ 
the,  early  ^Geologists  made  th^ir  investigations,  jn^ 
the  ^truptur^^.,9f  the  earth,  tl^^)^  pronounced  the. 
Cosmogpny  of  Moses  erroneous  and  unphilosophic^t; 
But  after  they  had  taken  time  to  review  their  first 
opinions,!  and  to  ^pajrry  .their  inquiries  farther  and 
deeper^  they  found  tlx^^t  Mo^es;  Ava3  right  both  as. 


/W  ri  KST      L  KCT  r  KK. 

to  fact  and  fill llosophy,  and  that  they  thonisolves 
had  been  wron^. 

-ii:  Well  would  it  have  been  ibr  the  worhl  if  all 
learned  m^n  whoj  like  thena,  htVTe  at;  first  made  a 
false  step,  had  hlso,  like  theiBy  the  wisdom  io  see 
it,  and  the  honesty  towwni  ititiiBut  far  otherwise 
is  the  casev  There  is  a  pride  of  opdnion  with  somfe, 
which  prevents  them  from  (».onfessin^  an  error  even 
when  they  see  it.  MThere  is  a- Vanity,  a  love  if 
notoriety  with  others,  that  delights  in  discarding 
what  the  multitude  receive*  as ■  truth.  And  with 
others,  if  not  with  them  all,  ther^  is  an  appetite,  a 
love  for  what  the  Bible  forbids  on  pain  of  heaven's 
wrath,  which  inclines  them  to  devise  aiid'^td  carry 
out,  far  as  they  can,  every  plea  that  may  prom- 
ise to  impair  or  destroy  the  divine  authority  of  Bis 
revealed  will.  t^  a  •  ^ji  -a ;ii3Vit>h 

Of  course,  although  there  may  beriimesr^Hi^n 
Infidelity  shows  a  bolder  front  than  at  others,  yet, 
while  man  remains  fallen  and  corrupt,  we  muist 
expect  to  meet  it  in  some  of  its  multiplied  forms. 
The  war  between  it  and  the  Bible  is  a  war  of  ex- 
termination. Be  it  so.  We  have  no  fear  as  tx)  the 
final  result.    W"e  not  only  hope,  but  we  know  the 


FIRST      LECTURE.  ^H 

day  is  coming  when  error  shall  be  uttbrly  destroy- 
ed from  the  face  of  the  earth  b-yifithe  all-prevail- 
ing' power  of  diviiientnithv  '  iBirfc  the  contest  rnust 
endure  for  mmiy  yehrsrboieome  before  that  oonsum- 
niation  shall  bei^neacbeid  ;  and  as  depravity^  the  pro- 
lific root  of  Infiddity,  is  a  disease  which  hasi  spread 
from  the  higheet  to  the  lowest;  of  aa^  raecy  we  innst 
expect  to  meet  the  htimbliiigfipebtaole  of  |nen  who 
have  distinguished  their  mimes  in  the  cause  of  Sci- 
cncei  tarnishiu;^  ihcir  honor&i  b^aoingiing  in 'the 
Tanks  of  those  who  reject  the- 1  holy!  Word:  of  l^iad. 
t:  .  M  iie^.  |us  th^  At  the  outset  takieovfaifii view  of' Iifi- 
^'Meldtyi  itithkaspeet.  .  TheiGdspeL;  wfaieh^d^cliu?es 
viteelf  kttd  ibe  ' ^ ^*  Christ,  thu  power  of  Gnod  and   the 
-wisdom  of  God,'^  does  not  require  us  to  disparage 
the  attainments  cm  the  iiinmbers  of  those  who  un- 
dervalue its  claims.    It  would  have  us  do  them  full 
i  justice.    In  another  discourse  we  fehall  endeavor  to 
show  that  if  the  question  in  dispute  is  to  be  settled 
t  by  the  authority  of  names,  the  argument  may  be 
viewed  as  at  an  end.    We  have  a  majority  thatrue- 
moves  every  doubt.    On  the  one  side  are  lumina- 
ries, it  is  true;   but  they  are   ''wandering  stars," 
however  bright  and   glaring,  yet  baleful  in  their 


'22  FIRST      LECTURE. 

course ;  and  on  the  other  side,  are  not  only  stairs, 
-  ^^btit  constellations,  pouring  forth  their  healthful  and 
'^^enlightening  brilliancy  on  our  sin-darkened  world. 
^'J^t  tre  worild  not  in  this  summary  way  turn  aside 
■  frdiA  thfe  point  beffore  us ;  and  admitting  that  Spi- 
• '  'ekt&  and  Letters  have  at  times  been  arrayed  agaiiist 
ffiGhristianity,   let  us  see  what  estimate  should (3be 
^offi^rned  of  the  Unnatural  hostility.     Our  dimits  infill 
^^^r^fiHb'ust;o  a- selection  of  names,  and  w«  will- 'dd- 
^^  ^vett  chiefly  to  those  whom  all  admit  to  be  the  strong- 
^s^.  men  and  best  scholars  that  Infidelity  ^n  claim. 
We  ask  then,  in  the  language  of  Paul,  "Where  is 
the  scribe?  AVhere  is  the  disputer  of  this  world'?" 
Let  them  be  produced.     Let  us  become  acquainted 
-with  their  strength  and  their  attainmeiitsf,  aiid  J'^the 
^^'Measure  of  their  stature."    --i     -^-nsii  ^nii  mi'imoo 
121:1  We  meet  with  thern'  ?arb4fekm^Hili[&  a'aiiH/ls>of 
UM^.     Their  hostility  began  with  the  man  who  be- 
gan the  Bible.     "  The  magicians "  of  Egypt,  who 
'*  'Encountered  Moses  when  he  appeared  as  an  inspi^d 
'''Prophet,  was  but  another  name  for  the  literati  of 
^^^at  day.     He  came,  performing  miracles,  to  attest 
•^^the  inspiration  of  his  message ;  and  they  endeav- 
'^tjred  to  discredit  this  eridonce  of  bib  mission  from 


FIRST      LECTUKE.  .0<?23 

heaven,  by  imitating  and  explaining  away  the  mira^ 
i  des  which   he  wrought;  just  as  the  philosophers 
ajad  neologists  of  later  times  have  endeavored  to 
6  iifivalidate  the  argument  drawn  from  the  wonders 
performed  by  prophets,  by  apostles,  and  by  our  Lord 
I  himself.     And  as  the  dawn  of  Scriptural  light  in 
lOld  Testament  times  awakened  such  opposition  in 
li  Egypt;  ia  after  days,  when  the  fuller  radiance  oi" 
-i.tiiei New  Testament  slione  upon  the  world,  it;  was 
^^loet  with (Itbei  same  hostility   in  every  wo/tion  to 
iiwihieh  it  spitead.     Referring  to  the  re3istauce  which 
:  the  great  leader  and  prophet  of  Israel  had  encoun- 
tered in^  his  ministry,  Pauli  tells  us,  "now as  Jajiiijes 
*  and  Jamb^es  witlistood  Moses,  so  do  tliese  also  )re- 
sist  the  truth ;  men  ■  of  corrupt  minds,  reprobate  con- 
cerning the  faith.    But,**  he  adds, /' they  ^hall  pro- 
i,ioeed  no  further;  their  foUy  $h£^H  be- manifest  unto 
Ml  men,  as  theirs  also  was."     And  in  this  connec- 
^  ifion  I  may  remark,  that  the  apostle  here  states  a  truth 
I) ihat  should  never  be  forgotten  in  our  contests  with 
tulflifidelity.    He  alludes  to  the  apparent  success  with 
Jiisriliich  the  magicians  of  Egypt,  for  m  timje,  .succeed- 
-70d.in  imitating   and   discrediting   the  jojdrivclpsi  of 
ia<Jfe)S»s^^'iwith  their  enchantments  "aijul"  lying  wpn- 


34  FIRST      J.ECTURE. 

ders,"  "wherein  they  hvy  in  wait  to  deceive;"  ailO 
he  reminds  us  of  how  they  were  at  length  brought 
to  a  stand,  (?oukl  ''  proceed  no  further,"  lind  confess- 
ed **  This  is  the  linger  of  God,"  thus  '*  making  their 
folJy  manifest,"  and  giving  a  testimony  to  the  divine 
mission  of  the  prophet,  which  was  the  mote  conVirlc- 
ing  and  important  as  it  came  from  those  who  had 
hie  fore  denied  nnd  derided  it.  Such  the  apostle 
would  have  ifts  know  jnust  he  the  fiha]  isfeue  of 
every  conflict  between  tritth  and  error.  He  whto 
Sftith  to  the  sea,  **  Hitherto  shalt  thou  come  but  HO 
farther:  and  here  shall  thy  proud  waves  be  stayed/' 
has  always  set  bounds  to  opposers  and  scoffers,  which 
they  cannot  pass.  "He  makes  the  wrath  of  man 
to  praise  him,  and  the  remainder  of  wrath  hen^e- 
strains."  "He  taketh  the  wise  in  their  own  crafti- 
ness."  He  allows  them  t6  oppose  his  truth  only  so 
far  as  will  make  their  confusion  the  more  complete, 
when  their  own  wfeapons  are  turned  lagainst  thein, 
and  "their  folly  is  made  manifest "t  by  means  erf 
their  own  deeds ;  and  if  the  Voicei  of  uninspired  M^- 
tx3ry  is  to  be  credited,  the  apostle  saw  in  his  own 
day  a  signal  instance  of  this,  in  one  whose  name  is 
not  embalmed  but  impaled  in '  the  pages  of  Scrip- 


FIRST    C.ECT  IT  KE.  35 

ture.  *'  Siiu6n  the  Magician/'  an  apostate  from  the 
faith  lie  had  onoe  p^ole.ssedy  *' giving  out  that  him- 
self was  some  great  one/ Vseems  to  have  been  a  lead- 
ing man  in  propagating  the  sophistries  of  Infidelity 
and  impietj'v;  »Jvl  tlie  occasion  of  his  apostacy  was 
so  ordered  by  the  overruling  hand  of  God,  as  to 
denionstrate  beyond  all  doubt  the  baseness  and  prof- 
ligacy of  the  motives'  which  led  to  his  opposition. 
From  the  daj>^s,  of  rth^  apostles,  1  might  come 
down  and  reciieitoy^n  the  names  of  Celsus,  Por* 
phyry,  Hierocleis,  rtvho  were  distinguished  in  the 
early  centuries  ttsi. Platonic  Philosophers,  and  also 
fts  avowed  anthgomst*  of j  the  Gospel.  In  the  brief 
sketch  however,,  to  which  Mne  oonfme  ourselves,  we 
can  barely,  allude  to  such  mdn.  The  largest  mea^ 
8ure  of  liberality. to  theiff claims  cantiDt  require  of 
us  to  do  any  tiling  mor^i  I^ie  gretvt  majority  of  them 
are  like  flies  in  amber^,  preserved  from  oblivion  by 
the  medium  in  which  they  are  held.  Their  names 
and  their  works  axe  known » (to  >'ns  chiefly  through 
the  writings  of  the  Fathers,  who  quoted  them  in 
lOrder  to  refute  them;  nor  would  they  be  acknow- 
deged  by  Infidelity  as  <3hampions  in  her  cause,  (.cl) 
-qn.To  find  those- to  whom  she  would  assign  that 


pre-eminence,  we  must  turn  ib  a  later  period  in  the-  «^ 
history  of  the  world  and  of  the  church.  We  mustf© 
come  down  through  century  after  century,  till  we^=^ 
have  reached  comparatively  modern  times.  W^i 
must  pass  by  what  are  usually  termed  the  Dariio 
Ages ;  for  during  that  long  slumber  of  intellect  and  ft 
learning.  Infidelity,  like  every  other  movement  of  the'^ 
human  mind,  seems  to  have  been  brought  to  a  pause.3^ 
It  was  not  the  form  in  which  the  gv^dt  enemy  of 
Christianity  then  desired  to  act.  While  the  Churoli'> 
and  her  ministry  slept,  it  was  his  policy  to  remaiivi 
quiet,  that  they  might  not  bo  waked  up.  '   ^^^'o 

But  when  the  trumpet  of  truth  was  blown  in 
the  days  of  the  Reformation,  and  Religion  and 
Learning  began  to  bestir  themselves  after  their  long 
slumber ;  then  also  Infidelity  raised  its  head  and  dis- 
played its  opposition.  When  Lilther  and  Beza,  tod 
Calvin  and  Cranmer,  and  Latimer  and  Ridley,  had 
taken  their  stand  at  the  altar  of  heaven,  and  had 
brought  into  light  the  long-hidden  truths  of  the 
G-ospel ;  and  when,  in  the  generations  following,  such 
men  as  Bacon,  Boyle,  Locke  and  Newton  in  Eng- 
land ;  and  Galileo,  Kepler,  DesCartes  and  Leibnitz 
on  the  continent  of  Europe,  gave  a  fresh  impulse^ 


FIRST      LECTURE.  2^2 

with  a  new  form  and  spirit,  to  Philosophy  and  Sci- 
ence ;  it  was  then  that  Hobbes  disphiyed  his  art  and 
subtilty  in  his  work,  boastfully  called  the  Levia- 
than, endeavoring  to  subvert  the  cardinal  principles 
oSl-lCliristianity  ;  then  did  Shaftesbury  send  abroad 
his  polished  blasphemies  in  his  Characteristics ;  it 
was  then  also  that  Bayle,  Spinoza,  Blount,  Toland, 
Bolin^broke  ajid  otliers,  joined  in  the  same  guilty 
'wrarfare.     They  were  ail  met  and  overthrown  by 
christian  writers  of  the  massive  strength  which  be- 
l(mg^  to,  the  learning  of  that^ay;  and  a«  evil  in 
our  world  is  always  orerrulecj  for  good,  their  as- 
saults led  to  the  establishment  of  the  famous  Boyle 
Lectureship^  as  a  permanent  defence  of  Christianity, 
aiBi^from  which  have  been  produced  some  of  the 
abl^t  discourses  in  our  language,  demonstrating  the 
truth  and  authenticity  of  the  Bibl^.  ^oqqo  an  Loyj^Iq 
bfjjjn /referring  to  this  multitude  of  freethinker^, ; 
"Vi^ho  came  forth  as  locusts  over  the  land,  it  should; 
1^  mentioned  that  we  do  not  find  many  among 
them  who  can  be  called  men  of  great  learning ;  and 
if  a  few  of  their  number  might  claim  such  a  dis- 
tinction, their  Infidelity  was  so  revolting  and  mon^ 
B^KOUS  in  its  blasphemies,  as  to  render  it  compara- 


28         *  FIRST      LECTURE. 

tively  harmless.  They  owed  their  fame,  such  as  it 
was,  to  causes  which  existed  before  them,  and  in 
one  sense  called  them  into  bein^.  They  generally 
nourished  in  what  is  known  as  the  corrupt  age  of 
(Jharles  the  Second,  when  the  land  was  deluged  with 
practical  irreligion,  and  the  way  prepared  for  tho 
wild  speculations  of  Infidelity.  They  were  more 
like  the  insects  which  are  generated  in  the  miasma 
of  a  soil,  already  pestilential  and  deadly,  than  like 
the  dragon  whose  pestiferous  breath  has  been  repre- 
sented as  having  the  power  to  blight  and  destroy 
whatever  is  lovely  and  precious  in  the  E dens  he  in- 
vades. That  gigantic  power  of  mischief  and  ruin 
soon  afterwards  began  to  be  developed,  especially  in 
three  men,  who  were  singularly  adapted  to  act  to- 
gether as  partners  in  their  common  object  as  infidels. 
And  not  waiting  to  enumerate  many  others  who 
were  their  cotemporaries  and  fellow-laborers,  let  us 
contemplate  that  peculiar  potency  for  evil  which 
was  displayed  in  Hume,  Rousseau  and  Voltaire, 
when  they  formed  their  unholy  alliance. 

It  has  been  justly  observed,  that  there  is  scarce 
an  avenue  to  the  heart  in  all  the  varieties  of  hu- 
man character,  but  some  one  of  the  three  had  ex- 


actly  the  talent  to  reach  it.  Hume's  mind  was 
carried  away  by  his  fondness  for  new  theories,  his 
ambition  to  be  found  on  debatable  ground,  and  the 
vanity  of  making  good  his  positiqn  ^  ^y  arguments 
that  might  perplex,  if  they  did  not  convince.  Ho 
describes  himself,  with  evident  complacency,  as  f^, , 
"friend  to  doubts,  disputes  and  novelties;"  and  so 
lightly  did  he  value  truth,  whether  as  a  philosopher 
or  a  historian,  that  he  coi^ld  sacrifice  it  with  the 
coldest  indiflfereuce,  either  to  vindicate  a  speculation, 
or  to  gratify  a  prejudice.  With  iguch  a  spirit  did 
Hume  prosecute  his  attacks  on  Chris^tiaiiity.  In  u 
philosophy  that  sets  at  defiance  the  Qiore  fi^sed  and 
acknowledged  law3  of  evidence,  and  in  u  history 
abundant  in  false  qolorings  and  garbled  statements, 
all  written  in  a  stylo  of  almost  Greoi^n  ease  and 
finish,  he  prevailed  with  readers  who,  obdurate  in 
heart,  and  ambitious  to  be  thought  more  knowing 
than  other  men,  loved  to  wrap  themselves  up  in  the 
mists  of  barren  and  uncertain  speculations.  Rous- 
seau's mind  resembled  the  crater  of  a  burning  vol- 
cano. Everything  that  cairxe  from  his  pen  seemed 
fused  by  a  melting  heat.    He  wrote  for  readers  who 

are  governed  by  impulse,  rather  than  by  a  taste  for 

2 


0d  F'l R3^  .:  £  JE  C  X  U.RB . 

l^ber  reasoning ;  and  by  a  show  of  sincerity  weU 
adapted  to  win  upon  the  unwary,  and  by  a  vivid^ 
^iess  of  imagery  that  makes  his  eloquence  dazzling 
itnd  deceptive,  he  seldom  failed  to  lead  captive  those 
]whom  he  aimed  to  teach.  The  scope  of  Voltaire's 
joaindwas  more  universal.  He  is  not  only  to  be 
reckoned  among  the  Encyclopedists  of  his  day,  but  he 
himself  resembled  an  Encyclopedia  of  knowledge. 
■He  touched  upon  everything,  bat  instead  of  adorning, 
lie  defaced  or  perverted  much  that  he  touched.  There 
jte  scarce  any  region  of  intellect  with  which  his 
hame  is  not  more  or  less  connected ;  and,  as  if  glory- 
ing in  ttie  power  of  his  multiform  talents,  he  im- 
•i^iously  boasted,  that  "  while  it  required  twelve  men 
io  write  Christianity  up,  he  would  show  that  oniB 
OJian  could  write  it  down."  He  labored  for  his  ob- 
§ect  through  a  long  life,  and  with  unabated  zeal ;  and 
^by  the  keenness  of  his  wit  and  satire,  and  his 
[Strong  picturing  of  sensuality  and  the  grosser  vices? 
4ie  became  the  favorite  oracle  of  those  who  lay  less 
within  the  reach  of  his  two  great  cotemporaries  and 
fellow-laborers  in  the  cause  of  irreligion.'  laJriA 
I  It  is  frightful  even  to  recollect  the  havoc  and 
(desolation   which   were   wrought   by  these  three 


FruBT   LEcTTr»i:j  at 

dliampions  of  Infidelity  and  their  coadjutors.  Theii 
baleful  influence  was  felt  from  the  palace  to  the  cot^ 
tage.  They  unhin^d  the  fairest  forms  of  society 
throughout  a  whole  Continent.  They  were  lepers 
?whose  touch  was  defilement.  In  the  language  of 
the  Evangelist,  the  name  of  the  unclean  spirit  that 
possessed  them  was  "  Legion."  Like  the  reckless  d€^ 
moniao  himself,  "no  man  could  hind  them,  neithet 
could  any  man  tame  them."  Like  him  also,  their 
^'  dwelling  was  limong  the  tombs ;"  for  wherevier 
iihey  went,  it  became  a  field  of  death  around  them, 
fi  va^  f  Golgotha,  where  was  entombed  or  scattered 
abroad  every  thing  most  essential  to  the  welfare  and 
happiness  of  man.  But  alas,  how  unlike  the  poor 
Gadarene  in  their  end!  The  word  of  Divine  pow^ 
er  commanding  the  unclean  spirit  to  come  out  of  the 
toan,  reached  his  heart  with  subduing  eflScacy ;  and 
we  see  him  at  once  "sitting  at  the  feet  of  Josus, 
clothed  and  in  his  right  mind."  But  they,  we  must 
fear,  died  as  they  had  lived ;  the  demons  which  pos- 
sessed them,  never  exorcised  to  the  last.  ^It  ciidiiv; 
After  them  however  arose  one  who  stands  un- 
equalled among  men  in  the  lasting  mischief  he  has 
wrought  against  truth  and  religion ;  and  I  refer  to 


Yliim  more  particularly,  because  of  the  effort,  recently 

made  to  keep  his  chief  work  before  the  public  eye. 
^ilfhe  name  of  Gibbon  will  at  once  rise  to  your  minds, 
-AS  entitled  to  this  guilty  pre-eminence.  When^ye 
i think  of  what  he  once  was,  what  he  became,, ^nd 
(fwhat  he  did,  we  are  reminded  of  the  Star  in  the  App- 
'K^alypse  "  whose  name  was  Wormwood,  and  which, 
n  burning  as  a  lamp,  fell  from  heaven  on  the  rivers 
(fjBiind  waters^and  men  died  of  the  waters,  because 

they  were  made  bitter."  If  we  compare  him  with 
i' other   infidel   writers   whom   wo    have   named^/it 

would  almost  seem  as  if  the  Powers  of  darkness 
lc:had  aimed  to  imitate  the  Most  High  in  the  creation 
i.<)f  the  world,  reserving  the  choicest  specimen  of 
Hittiefcr  workmanship  for  the  last.  If  "  there  were^i- 
(tj9(»ts'tn  the  earth  in  those  days,"  among  the  enemies 
l'y()f  truth,  he  was  "taller  than  any  of  them  from  tfie 
9  shoulders   upwards."      He  is   the   Goliath  of' the 

J  Philistine  host ;  and  when  he  cqmes  forth  '*  defying 
^tttie  armies  of  the  living  Go^,"  ''the  staff  of  tiis 
n^pear  is  like  a  weaver's  beami' xl]§ni  js  Lbiinnriiii  fi 
cnic  His  feeling  of  hatred  was  peculiar.  There  is  tio 
[enmity  or  bitterness  like  that  of  an  apostate.  Nero 
>^  was  cruel  and  reckless  in  shedding  tlie  blood  of 


YtJhristians,  but  he  showed  nothing  lik^  the  intensity 
•^f  rage  "  against  the  Lord  and  against  His  Anoint- 
ed/* which  was  displayed  by  the  apostate  Julisin, 
9^'h6  hftd  once  professed  Christianity  and  then-ie- 
^hounoed  it.  Gibbon  had,  in  turn,  been  a  member  of 
•'^he  Protestant  Church  of  England,  of  the  Roman 
r^tJatholic  Church,  of  the  Protestant  Church  on  ihe 
'Continent ;  and  in  the  end  became  an  apostate  frtwn 
^t^eligion  in  all  these  various  forms;  carrying  with 
i^him  an  enmity  of  a  three-fold  strength;  a<^  if^ihe 
^  Venom  had  been  concentrated  aw&w  by  eneryftteh 

renunciation  through  which  he  had  passed.  •' 'O^/ 
noikUnder  tliis  stimulus,  and  with  qualifications  ijJ 
icftiiftd,  study,  and  travel,  richly  fiirriishing  him  'for 
-iftie  acoornplishmont  of  his  task,  he  produced^  the 
?^^  History  of  the  Decline  arid  Fall  of  the  Ronian 
Q^Empire,"  a  work  which  stands  among  the  iii^ist 
o'l^plendid  achievements  of  human  intellect,  and'tlie 
^*aost  dangerous  of  the  attacks  ever  made  upon  Di- 
«*vine  Revelation.  From  the  nature  of  the  suliject, 
it  furnished  a  high  and  unequalled  advantage  to  the 
^^infidel  Historian.  There  has  been  but  one  Rome, 
<"Tlfcnd  it  is  scarcely  to  be  expected  that  another  will 
^^xise  hereafter.     The  empire  not  less  than  the  city 


M  FIRST     L  EC  TIT  RE. 

which  hears  that  lofty  name,  appropriated' to 'if'selF 
with  unsparing  hand  whatever  formed  the  hrightest 
glories  of  other  nations,  until  it  rose  into  a  mag-' 
iiificence  hoth  suhlime  and  gigantic  ;  and  when  such 
a  structure  is  seen  fallen  and  decayed,  there  ife'^^^ 
grandeur  in  the  ruins  that  is  irresistibly  impressiyie^ 
and  absorbing.    It  is  Rome  draped  in  the  hallowed- 
light  of  all  her  departed  glory  that  Gibbon  depicts- 
to  us  with  his  graphic  pen.    It  was,  as  he  tells  us- 
himself,  while  he  sat  musing  amidst  the  ruins-^W» 
the  Capitol,  covered  with  the  evening  shades  of  an 
Italian  autumn,  and  listening  to  the  Friars  chanting ' 
their  vespers  in  the  temple  of  Jupiter,  that  he  con- > 
ceived  the  purpose  of  his  work;  and  as  if  imbued^ 
with  the  spirit  of  the  exciting  scene  before  him,  he- 
lias  quickened  into  life  the  Forum  and  the  TriuM-^ 
{dial  Arch,  and  made  them  tell  their  stories  of  the^'^ 
greatness  which  once  ennobled  the  generations  of 
aatiquity.    And  then,  when  he  has  depicted  to  us 
these  scenes  of  decayed  splendor  till  we  long   for^^ 
something  fresh  and  new,  he  leads  us  away,  evok-  ^ 
ing  from  the  fragments  of  the  dilapidated  empire,  ^ 
nations   and    institutions   wearing  the   form   and'^ 
breathing  the  spirit  of  later  ages.    But  although  he^ 


FIRST      LECTURE.'?  3S 

is  thus  the  historian  of  both  the  ancient  and  mo* 
dern  worlds,  he  is  not  oppressed  by  the  vastness  of 
his  plan,  or  embarrsissed  or  confused  by  the  diversi- 
ty  and  magnitude  of  his  mi  {(trials.    Under  his  po.; 
tjen^i;  wand  they  all  settle  down  into  their  appropri*^ 
ate  places,  and  assume  a  finished  symmetry,  till  we»; 
have  a  work  before  us  which,  notwithstanding  thaf* 
blemishes  of  a  style  at  times  so  stately  as  to  be  ajwi 
most  turgid,  luis  phiced  the  author  on  a  pedestal' 
^jpQi?§  histqrians,  from  which  lie  is  not  to  be  shaken.^ 
ni- J?tttj  a«  if  aaunated  with  the  cunning  of  "tha;i> 
0I4  i^eirpent  whijch  deceiveth.  thie  hations,^'  he  has  «^i 
constru<jt^4  the  whole,;  as  to  maki^  it  a  running  liii 
bjal  pft  Christianity.  An  opportunity  for  **  sapping  au 
solenui  creed  with  solemn  sneer"  seldom  escape^/ 
him..     But  lii^  sneers  are  comparatively  harmless.  > 
Neither  ia  it  his  direct  .and  open  attacks  on  the  1 
trviths  of  Christianity  that  we  should  chiefly  dread. 
When  he  has  dared  to  come  out  and  show  himself^*^ 
he  has  been  met  and  overthrown.    The  chief  danger 
from  Gibbon  is  of  a  different  kind.  "  Dan,"^ays  the  ^ 
Patriarch,  "  shall  be  a  serpent  by  the  wayside,  ap=  * 
adder  in  the  path,  that  biteth  the  horse's  heels,  ^13 
th^t  his  rider  shall  fall  backwards."    And  the  lani<i 


jW  FIRST      LECTURE. 

guage  is  strikingly  descriptive  of  -  tb^,  subtilty  aud 
treachery  which  distinguish  Gibbon  fvs  an  tnfideJ 
writer.  He  has  planted  himself  on  pne  of  the  gr^at 
highways  of  knowledge,  and  like  "  an  adder  in  thp 
path,"  he  hides  his  venomous  designs  from  the  i;n- 
wary  traveller.  All  historians  have  facilities  pecu- 
liar to  themselves  for  misleading  their  readers ;  and 
Gibbon  has  availed  himself  of  them  to  the  fullest 
pxtent.  With  the  artfulness  of  which  he  is  an  ac^ 
p omplished  master,  and  which  it  sometimes  requires 
great  care  and  study  to  detect,  he  places  facts  in 
such  aspects  and  relations  as  must  lead  to  conclvi^ 
ttions  directly  at  variance  witit  truth.^  and  justice^ 
liy^Mle  he  would  only  seem  to  be  giving  harmonj^ 
and  contii^uity  to  his  narrative,  he  often  contrives  i(wt 
clothe  the  cqrrupt  and  scandalous  institutions  of  I*^ 
ganism  in  aspects  so  ^^ttractive  tjiat  we  almost 
grieve  to  part  with  them,  lest  we  should  bury  in 
their  grave  whatever  forms  the  grace  and  the  gran- 
deur  of  the  world's  best  days ;  while  the  debasing, 
and  gross  sensuality  which  accompanied  them,  is 
either  palliated  or  studiously  kept  out  of  viQ"vv«, 
When  he  describes  the  progress  of  Mahomet,  it  is 
done  with  a  vividness  and  an  exultation,  that  might 


piRst    Lecture. 


liidiiie  the  minds  of  his  iLrdeht  readers  to  joiii'HS 
Chanting  a  triumph  to  that  cTiiei  among  impostoi*^"; 
'^Sle  fh^e  decbi't- Tioifetl^^,'Wnd^^^  "by  which  lS^ 
"Koran  wais  spread,  t^ceiVb  scared  a  passing  <;ensiiifel 
Bfit'^hdi  he  describes  the  ptogrefe^  arid  friilis  oftKi 
©iis]^eJl'aiilbii^  th^^Mbns,'h[f^  j^encil  senilis  to  Jtf^ 
ten  dipped  in  th«  dbldU^s  and  dfeadtiess  oFlJ^A 
^tochti!  WHalf^V^'ii/ay^heth^  other  sysVe^^^^ 
feithaiid' forms  6f  worship  which  li^'  t^^omm'eAd^i^ 
Sf  ^ihhellishe^,  Christianity  is  held  up  as  having 
scarce  a  redeeming  quality  to  atone  for  the  wrongs! 
He  imputes  to  it.  With  an  avidity  which  he  caii- 
nbt  conceal,  he  recites  and  parades  the  errors  atiiaf 
faults  of  Christians,  showing  that  he  gloried  in  their 
^anie;  hut  their  nohle  examples  of  faith  and  pir-' 
tience  when  they  either  died  martyrs  to  the  truth;^ 
<ir  spread  streams  of  salvation  through  a  lost  aiitP 
suffering  world,  awaken  no  sentiment  of  admiratiorf]^' 
of  if  at  times  he  is  compelled  hy  the  force  of  trutlr 
to  speak  of  their  illustrious  deeds,  he  doles  out  his' 
feluctant  and  scanty  commendations,  grudgingly  aJs^ 
a  miser  would  part  with  his  gold,  impatient  till  hie? 
can  close  his  hand  and  give  no  more.  '"^^^  '^^  nsnW 
^^^-^Nor  is  this  all:  painftil  as  it  is  to  expose  dfsHHfl- 


oms  a  #  res  f  Jl  #<?  W^  e  . 

esty  and  ba3  faith  in  a  writer  of  Gibbon's  poweflul 

mind,  when  we  find  him  framing  such  mysteries  of 

iniquity,    such   insidious   attacks  on  Christianity; 

with  what  abhorrence  of  the  man  must  we  conti^m- 

<  plate  him,  when  we  see  him  descending  to  the  low 

Jbimire  of  obscenity.    True  indeed,  shame  forbade  him 

oito  translate  his  disgusting  pictures  of  sensuality  into 

8  this  own  language,  and  to  interweave  them  with  the 

««£4^xt^of  his  pages.     But  his  evident  relish  for  tliem 

(  was  so  great  that  he  could  not  part  with  them ;  and 

the  shape  and  the  place  in  which  he  has  left  th^m 

Y'ierve  to  show  the  deep  art  with  which  he  has  con- 

vtrived  to  make  even  this  portion  of  his  wbi^k  the 

more  dangerous  and  hurtful.    "It  is  no  apology  for 

this  insult  upon  the  public  morals"  as  has  been  well 

li  observed,  *'an  insult  of  many  years  continuance,  ^ 

-athat  the^pcdsoqa^as  confined  to  his  notes,  and  i^n- 

•xlvfdoped  in  thfe  (iover  of  a  dead  and  difficult  laii- 

e^uage.     It  did  more  mischief  than  his  Infidelity 

-£lt  addresses  itself  to  the  imagination  and  the  pas- 

XBions  of  an  ago  which  needed  not  to  be  inflamed  by 

•ijintellectual  incentives — to  the  youth  of  our  great 

J  schools  and  universities,  who,  captivated  by  ihe^e- 

f  ductive  charms  of  his  text,  would  be  further  kt- 


l^^acted,  by  the  learned  semblance  of  his  notes,  to 
•j^^descend  to  the  polluted  margin,  where  they  might 
decipher  Greek,  and  drink  in  vice  and  profligacy  by 
.^,the  same  effprjl^"nftni  aifi  lo  doaoTiofldiJ  iiiiivr  il;^iw 
Y/^ol  »Such  is  a  brief  view  of  the  adroitness  andlip- 
dustry  with  which  Gibbon  has  aimed  to  mislead 
(jj^d  defile  the  minds  of  his  readers,  in  liis  "Decline 
cjf^d-J^ali  of  the  Roman  Empire*"  .-^in  poison  thus 
^^jUrtfuUy  prepared  has  not  been  harmlee^.  i.Jt  has 
j)^pre,i^  <5pn,tagion  into  the  minds  of  many;  of  Haany 
„{Vf^i\kf^Y^^Qyi^r  b^^  r^tored  from  its  deadly  influ- 
.^^ce>  »nd  of  others  who  ha,v^  bem  healed  only  by 
Q  jpii9f^4i9^^Wch  Aot  every  i  physician  has  the  ability 
^fj^^btj^p;  ^  adrainisterh  t  JJij  seems  to  hav-e.  beeat  a 
ll^eat  desigji  ^yith  Gibbon,  fropi  the  beginning  to  the 
Q§jf4i  fif  1^^^  wprk,  that  impiety  and  unbelief  should 
.^^  imbibed  from  his  pages,  insensibly;  just  as  dis- 
jj^^sQ  jis  taken  from  an  infected  atmosphere  by  breath- 
.  ,iipg  { ^^j  1 1  Np  ordinary  precaution,  p w  i  ^y^il  to  give 
.,^^urity  against  it; nor  can  the  notes  of  commenta- 
,,  Jxys,  though  prepared  with  the  diligence  and  ability 

jj^G|jf,^.JV[ilman  ^p^v^jJ^^W^^^i^^^  or  neu- 

.^tralize  the  poison.    The  fabric  is  dyed  in  the  wool. 
j£lasphemy  and  irreligion  form  a  part  of  its  very 


elements;  and  though  a  texture  of  gorgeous  magni- 
ficence, it  must  remain  from  end  tb  end,  smitten 
with  the -"fretting  leprosy"  "of  Infidelity  ^'in  the 
warp  and  in  the  woof'^  ''^^^  '^^  iioiiaiX)aiiomoi>  ebiw 
9ii'llf  you  will  excuse  the  digression,  I  would  gSS^ 
are  we  never  to  ^ee?*a  work  rising  beside  it,  equal- 
ing, if  not  surpassing  it  in  grandeur,  and  yot  fi%il 
From  its  depravity  and  deceit?  Are  we  never  to  ^ee 
it?  The  church  needs  it,  and  the  world  needs 'it[ 
Eeligion  needs  it,  and  learriing  needs^lti'  Could  T 
©all  spirits  from  the  vasty  deep,' RiiA 'iy^^^'^t^W^Sl 
come,  I  would  enlist  from  the  multitudes  of  th^ 
gifted  and  the  learnied,  Some  intellect  of  giiperfcfif 
might,  who  woul^  immortalize  his  name  with  subh 
^  monument  of  learning.  The  power  of  the  gosji^f 
iii  renovating  the  world  and  elevating  man  frotiii^ 
the  degradation  of  ignorance  and  guilt,  was  nev^t' 
more  fully  displayed  than  when  it  found  Roirii^' 
sinking  from  the  zenith  of  her  grandeur  into  tli^^ 
depth  of  her  humiliation.  When  that  vast  empite', 
which  claimed  to  have  a  dominion  co-extensiv^ 
with  the  world,  crumbled  into  fragments,  "  the  earfti' 
and  all  the  inhabitants  thereof  wer6  dissolved.**^ 
Chaos  had  come  again,  tad  "darkness  was  upon 


the  face  of  the  deep."  The  allwise  Disposer  of  events 
allowed  our  world  thus  to  hecome  "  without  form 
and  v<rid^";iD^  5)i;4er  J»  furriish  a  new  and  a  world- 
wide demonstration  of  the  public  and  private  bless- 
iij^rs  which  follow  in  the  train  of  Christianity.  The 
whole  structure  of  society  was  to  he  r^e-cast  and  vivi* 
^ed  under  the  life-giving  power  of  His  word,  who  in 
Jjje  beginning  had  said,  "  l»et  there  bo  light,  and  there 
Y^^  Jight;"  aax^tl^er^ifs  nqt  i^  all  ^he  wide  regions 
ef  k^9wled^e  a  greater  desideratum  than  Or  history 
|i^jlj^fl,  ^^th  (^lie  e^lightened  spirit  of  tlie  cliristian, 
IJ^  j^ljih^thropist  and  ^^^  statesman,  and  wliich 
^|g^  a^^j^  jfc9,jP,hfistianityjit^  just  claims  in  the, 
then  wrought  on  the  condition  and  destj^ 
\fi^  the  human  race.  For,  as  has  been  said  iflt 
e(;[ua|ly  just  and  beautiful,  '*  How  vague 
i^, general  is  our  notion  of  this  the  most  remarkable 
^ange  which  has  ever  been  wrought  in  the  state  oi' 
ij^ankind !  The  violent  and  rapid  conquests  of  Mq-^ 
hatmmedanism  are  cle^r  and  intelligible ;  a  con* 
q^uering  nation  overruns  a  great  part  of  the  world* 
a«d  establishes  its  faith  upon  the  ruins  which  its 
ar^ns  have  made.  The  triumph  of  Christianity  i^ 
^  secret  progress  of  opinion,  working  at  Jirst  no 


change  in  the  existing  forms  or  relations  of  society, 
hut  gradually  detaching  individuals,  cities,  nations, ' 
from  their  ancestral  faith;  still  growing  in  numeri- ' 
cal  superiority,  compressing  the  inert  resistance  of 
its  antagonist  into  a  liarrower  cohipass ;  hot  sweep- ' 
ihg  clear  and  levelling  the  ground  for  the  ere6tion^' 
of  its  new  system,  hut  springing  uj),  as  it  were,  lilifeSt 
a  fresh  growth  of  vigorous  trees  ahovfe' 3,' ^dfe'cayiilgf^ 
forest,  which  ^adually  withers  down  irito  'W^tHln' 
irid  perishing  under- wood,  till  at  length  it  entirely^ 
dies  away,  or  only  hangs  a  felw  parasitical  branch- 
es upon  the  stately  grove  which  has  succeeded  to  ife 
place  and  honors.'^^  We  hate  nothing  which  fills  up 
the  outlines  presented  iti  this  happy  illustration. 
Ther6  is  no  want  of  ably  written  works  which  place 
the  pure  morality  and  spiritual  worship  and  social 
refinement  of  Christianity  in  contrast  with  the  de- 
baucheries, superstitions  and  barbarities  of  Pagan- 
ism.   Btlt'iib  historian  has  yet  arisen  who  fully 
traces  out  and  unfolds  the  noiseless  yet  all  pervad- 
ing power  of  the  Gospel  in  re-modelling  the  whold 
structure  of  society ;  in  diffusing  new  sympathies 
and  a  higher  purity  through  all  the  social  and  do- 
mestic relations  of  life;  iii  creating  new  views  of 


FIRST     LECTURE^,  48^ 

civil  rights  and  civil  duties,  imparting  a  new  tone , 
and  spirit  to  legislation  and. jurisprudence;  in  giv-s 
ing  enlargement  ajxd^  {elevation  to  cultivated  intel- 
lect and  rescuing  the  njasses  of  a  nation  from  igno- 
rance, barbarity  and  wretchedness.    We  must  have 
ajl  tliis  done  with  the  discri^T^iination  of  a  soun^ 
pbilosopl^y;  apd,  t)^ci  rejv^eti^icj^  f^fr a  christian  spirits*. 
bjBfcfrp  justice  cqa;^  be  rqndef^d  to  Cluistianity  as  sent. 
"^/fliTjthe  healing  of  tbjp^p^p^o;^$;"  and  no  dpiibt  tix^] 
d^,^}9  coming  Avhen  sijph  |^,>^pjck};vyij[l.  be  giypnip^ 
tl^e  ;WQTld  under  the  blessing  o(.^P^,>\rjij^h,yl;jQn^^, 
«^he  residue  of  the  spirit;:  3^^^  ^lo^^a  edinoqu  .0 
(^jj  To  return  :  in  the  brief  review  which  we  have 
given  of  Infidelity  among  men  of  learning,  we  ha^^j 
endeavored  to  be  not  only  just  but  liberal  in  our  es* 
tjmate  of  their  attainments  ;  and  as  we  proposed  af;. 
the  outset,  in  our  selection  we  have  brought  forward 
no  name  of  inferior  note.    We  might  have  extend- 
ed, the  list  by  referring  to  D'Alembert,  Diderot,  Con- 
dorcet,  and   others   of  their  rank.     But  whatever 
may  have  been  their  standing  in  literature,  they  be- 
longed to  a  school  of  which  Voltaire  was  master. 
They  served  in  an  army  of  which  the  men  to  whom 
I  have  chiefly  referred  were  leaders  ;  an  army  of  such 


41  '  FIRST      LECTURi, 

tm^ualled  numbers  and  strength  as  tb  liSre  renIB 
6fred  the  century  in  which  they  lived,  I  will  not  say 
thfe  golden,  but  the  brazen  age  of  infidels  and  scof- 
fers. That  inglorious  distinction  must  be  admit- 
tied  as  belonging  to  the  century  now  past;  and  if, 
since  its  close,  the  war  has  still  been  continued  by 
a  few  who  hold  a  high  rank  in  science,  their  hostili- 
ty, as  we  will  hereafter  show,  has  generally  beeri 
disguised  if  not  timid,  aiming  to  hide  itself  undei* 
some  new  name,  and  rather  to  sap  the  foundations 
of  Christianity  than  to  destroy  the  citadel  by  storm. 
The  hardened  forehead  of  Infidelity,  which  openly 
glories  in  its  own  shame,  is  not  often  found  in  our 
day  among  the  refined  and  the  intelligent,  but 
among  the  low  and  the  vulgar.  ^'"^^ 

■^''''  ■  And  now,  in  conclusion  of  this  lecture,  let  us 
turn  and  look  back;  and  after  this  brief  review  oi 
what  the  ablest  infidels,  whether  of  ancient  or  mni- 
dern  times,  have  done,  or  attempted  to  do,  let  us  asK 
what  they  have  accomplished  against  the  Christian 
faith  ?  Have  they  impaired  its  beauty,  or  rendered  it^ 
foundation  less  stable  or  secure  ?  They  have  led  oii 
their  attacks  under  banners  of  every  form  and  color: 
They  have  chosen  their  implements  of  warfare  frotii 


FIRST      LECTURE.  ^ 

every  arsenal  of  learning ;  from  history,  from  phi- 
losophy, from  the  arts;  wliile  the  lighter  weapons  of 
sarcasm  and  wit   have  been  used  without  stiij^. 
But  let  them  bring  their   armour   or*  their   arm^ 
whence  they  may,  in  their  prolonged  and  misparing 
hostility ;  can  they  tell  us  of  the  progress  they  have 
made  in  the  accomplishment  of  their  unholy  de- 
sign?  Have  they  even  lessened,  much  less  over* 
thrown  the  credibility  of  a  single  page  or  a  single 
sentence  in  tlie  whole  Bible  ?   They  have  the  map 
of  the  civilized  world  before  theni ;  can  they  draw 
their  finger  over  it,  and  show  us  that  by  means  ot 
their  untiring  labors  the  territory  held  by  Chri^ti; 
anity  has  been  curtailed  in  its  limits  or  reduced  4ji 
its  strength  ? 

But  if  the  Bible  i$  untrue,  or  Christianity  a*  de- 
ception, as  they  would  have  us  believe^  iet  us  con- 
sider the  great  advantages  which  they  have  in  their 
hands  for  showing  it  to  be  so. 

Let  us  remember  that  no  deception  or  imposture 

can  possibly  stand  the  test  of  time.    It  is  as  true  of 

falsehood  as  of  murder,  that  sooner  or  later  It  "  wi|l 

out."    You  cannot  by  any  ingenuity  conceal  either 

of  them  always.    Some  prying  eye  of  a  close  ob- 

s 


46  FIRST    liECTURE. 

server,  or  some  unforeseen  occurrence,  will  bring  them 
to  light.  Fruitful  of  such  evils  as  the  ingenuity  ^(Qjf 
man  has  been  in  all  ages,  there  is  no  imposture  to 
pe  named  which  has  lived  beyond  a  few  genera- 
ytions,  or  perhaps,  I  might  say  beyond  a  few  years, 
jWhere  general  intelligence  and  freedom  of  inquiry 
prevaiL  The  Koran  loses  its  hold  on  the  public 
mind  wherever  information  spreads  among  the 
people ;  and  the  superstitions  which  at  various  times 
bave  aimed  to  baptise  themselves  with  the  name  of 
(Christianity,  owe  their  existence  to  the  prevalence 
of  the  maxim,  that  ignorance  is  the  mother  of  de- 
■votion.  But  the  Gospel,  revealing  the  way  of  life 
through  a  crucified  Redeemer,  has  been  received  in 
nation  after  nation,  meeting  with  the  freest  exami- 
nation of  the  wise  and  well  informed;  in  fact,  cre- 
ating inquiry  and  intelligence  as  one  of  its  fruits  ; 
find  what  has  been  the  result  ?  The  Book  is  be- 
fore us.  IThousands  of  years  have  passed  away 
since  the  greater  portion  of  it  was  written,  and  it 
never  appeared  more  unsullied  and  impregnable 
than  it  does  this  day,  as  its  very  foes  admit.  In  its 
x)wn  beautiful  language,  "  No  weapon  that  is  form- 
ed against  it  has  prospered,  and  every  tongue  that 


„ ..  „ „.  „  ^  , ,,  n^ 

riRST     LECTURE.  57 

has  risen  against  it  in  judgment,  it  has  condemii* 
teli^*'^jA'nd  while  it  stands  thus  strong  and  unshakeil 
against  the  assaults  of  man,  Time,  eren  Time  him- 
self,  that  wastes  and  puts  the  mark  of  decay  o^ 
^every  thing  created  by  human  wisdom  and  human 
^ower,  only  adds  to  the  stability  and  grandeur^  of 
^he  Holy  Book.  Come  or  go,  rise  or  fall,  perish  ot 
%ndure  whatever  may,  the  Bible  still  seems  to  en- 
trench itself  anew  with  some  fresh  demonstration 
of  its  truth;  and  not  only  does  it  stand  uhtnovei 
and  immovable  amid  all  the  changes  passing 
around  it,  but  it  claims  to  itself  the  high  distinctiori 
of  being  alone  able  to  stand  among  all  the  forms 
of  faith  and  worship  that  men  have  ever  embraced, 
And  well  it  may.  It  has  seen  false  divinities 
beyond  number,  as  Baal,  Ashtaroth,  Jove,  Minerva 
and  Mars  covered  up  in  a  common  grave  of  oblii 
vion,  or  remembered  only  as  phantoms  of  deluded 
iiations;  but' Jehovah,  Jehovah  whom  it  has  taught 
from  the  beginning  as  the  true  God,  the  only  God, 
is  to  this  day  still  on  his  "throne,  high  and  lifted 
up,"  "the  same  yesterday,  to-day  and  for  ever.* 
It  has  seen  Sibylline  verses  which  claimed  to  be 
'(divinely  inspired,  scattered   to  the  winds  as   re* 


^  FIRST     liEOTUIli:. 

cords  of  deceit  and  foUy;  while  not  a  word  or  syl- 

Jable  of  its  own  is  marred  or  lost  in  the  current  of 

txiges  as  they  roll  by.    And  then,  let  me  add,  when 

^  has  challenged  comparison  with  these  discarded 

^divinities,  these  scattered  records  of  deceit ;  it  goes 

^oh,  and  in  defiance  of  time  to  come,  as  in  triumph 

tiover  time  past,  it  stakes  its  reputation  for  truth  on 

the '  prediction  that  it  will  still  endure,  as  the  reii^R- 

'i'viatida  of  grace  to  man,  when  time  himself  shall 

be  no  longer.    There  is  but  one  explanation  to  be 

given  of  all  this,  to  be  given  of  this  incorruptibility 

I  and  endurance  of  the  Bible.  We  have  it  from  the 

tiBook  itself;    "All  flesh  is  as  grass,"  says  the  Pro- 

i;phet,  "and  all  the  glory  of  man  as  the  flower  of 

-.the  grass."    " The  grass  withereth,  and  the  flower 

^  thereof  falleth  away;  but  the  word  of  the  Lord ^- 

-  duieth  forever ^^'  and  it  endttB^bi  for^rer,  becaus0;xt 

"fe  the  word  of  the  Lord,   r//  nBm  v^od  Lxii?  u  >l'.w 

i;    ;  But  farther;  we  may  perhaps  dOn6feive  of  soiftie 

tofiotion  or  imposture  so  ca;refully  framed  and  guard- 

[^^ed  at  all  points  by  the  practised  sagacity  of  its 

£  qniti^or,  that  it  might  be  difficult  to  detect  and  ex- 

Ypose  it  after  the  most  patient  examination.    But  if 

Ig.eo,  it  should  treat  of  but  one  subject,  it  should  be 


i;h«  work  of  one  man,  and  should  te  ftatnfeU  or 
composed  in  some  one  age  of  the  world.    Just  a6- 

neording  as  it  multiplies  either  topics  or  authors,  it 
increases  its  liability  to  exposure  by  multiplying 

'the  points  on  which  it  may  be  assailed  by  sorfie 
sharp-sighted  antagonist.  But  how  is  it  with .  the 
Bible  ?  Does  it  treat  of  but  one  subject;  or  was  it 
written  by  one  man,  or  at  one  period  of  time  ?e^^ 

^ffif^  No  book  was  ever  WTitten,  einhrnciiiir  sulyrcts 
of  such  vast  extent  and  such  endless  a  anety.  it  U;- 

-  gins  at  the  beginning.  It  recites  the  creation  ot)  iije 
^arth,  and  the  heavens,  of  th^  sun,  the  moon^and 
the  stars  also,  and  describees  the  final  dissolutiofiibf 

■'bilr  world,  when  "the  heavens,  being  on  fi'i^e^'sKfill 
pass  away  with  a  great  noise,  and  the  elomeirtB 
shall  melt  with  fervent  heat;  the  earfh  also,  and 

"  the  works  therein,  shall  be  bfurned  up."  It  shoWs 
when  and  how  man  was  created  in  the  image  of  his 
Creator,  tells  the  sad  story  of  his  fall  from  pribieval 
innocence,  and  spreads  before  us  the  good  news;oi 
his  redemption  from  sin  by  a  B>edeemer,  and  his  final 
admission  into  the  world  of  the  blessed.  It  giVes  a 
code  of  morals  so  perfect  as  to  be  applicable  to  every 
duty  and  c/)ndition  of  man,  and  foretells  a  doming 


^,  niiST      LECTURE, 

judgment,  when. ^^^ij.li^e  rendered  to  every  man 
according  to  that  which  he  hath  done.    It  draws 
aside  the  veil  and  shows  us  the  attributes  of  Him 
w|]^o,  i^  pYjer  all  ,Go»dy  blessed  for  ever,"  and  brings 
down  to  our  view  that  "  great  mystery  of  godliness, 
(^^9d  manifest  in  the  flesh»"    At  times  too,  stepping^ 
aside  as  it  were  from  these  more  sacred  doctrines; i 
it  gives,  f^s^  its  teachings  respecting  the  physical 
l^ws  which  sustain  and  govern  the  material  world ; 
it  shows  us  the  frame  work  of  a  civil  government, 
which  equally  sustains  the  authority  of  rulers  and  se- 
cures the  rights  of  the  ruled  ;  and  it  recites  the  his- 
tories of  nations  in  their  rise  and  fall,  often  making 
us  familiar  with  events  of  such  remote  antiquity 
that  no  rec9rd  of  them  is  to  be  found  except  in  itsn 
rich  and  diversified  revelations.    There  is  indeed  no  - 
department  or  branch  of  valuable  knowledge  upon 
which  it  does  not  touch,  with  which  it  is  not  directly-  i 
or  indirectly  connected.  It  comprehends  things  pa^'^ 
present  and  to  come,  visible  and  invisible,  temporal  " 
and  eternaj.  ^nd  then  ao^i  oiOAU  i<^ii, xiJi//  tyma 

{^j|j40ok  also  at  its  numerous  authors  and  the  val^^ 
rious  circumstances  and  ages  of  the  world  in  whieli^'' 
they   wrote.     "It  is   a    book  which  nearly    fifty^'^ 


writers  of  every   degree  of  cultivation  and  ever/ 
condition  of  life,  and  living  through  the  long  course 
of  fifleen  hundred  years,  have  contributed  to  prd^" 
duce.  It  is  a  book  which  was  written  in  the  centre' 
of  Asia,  in  the  sands  of  Arabia,  in  the  deserts  or 
Judea,  in  the  courts  of  the  temple  of  the  Jews,  in 
the  schools  of  the  prophets  at  Bethel  and  Jerichd, 
in  the  sumptuous  palaces  of  Babylon,  on  the  idola- 
trous banks  of  Chebar,  and  finally  in  the  theii 
centre  of  western  civilization,  in  the  midst  of  the 
Jews  and  of  theit  ignorance,  in  the  midst  of  Poly- 
theism and  its  idols,  as  also  ifi^the  bosom  of  Pftii-^ 
theism  and  its  sad  philosophy.   It  is  n  book  wh[6s^^* 
fii»t.  writer  had  been   forty  years  a  pupil  6f  ih&^ 
magicians  of  Egypt,  in  whose  opinion  the'  sun' -atid*^ 
stars. were  endowed  with  intelligence,  reacting  oti^^ 
the  elements  and  governing  the  world,  by  a  pe^*^ 
petual  effluvium;   and  whose   last  writer  was^^a'^ 
fisherman  from  the  sea  of  Tiberias,  called  from  his 
net  to  be  an  inspired  Apostle;*^  c^MiOi>  oJ  Uui^  JnoaoKi 
Now,  with  all  these  facilities  for  exposing  the'  ^ 
falsehood  of  a  book,  arising  from  the  number  and 
variety  of  its  subjects  and.  authors,  what  deception 
or.^yiatioAfrQtnitrutk  have  the  most  able  adver- ' 


««  FIRST      LECTURE. 

stitries  detected  in  the  Bible  ?  Let  them  point  outi 
if  they  can,  a  single  instance  of  discrepancy  or  con-? 
tradiction,  a  single  violation  of  the  unity  and  bat*, 
mony  that  should  run  throughout  the  whole,  as  a 
constantly  brightening  revelation  of  God's  holy  pur-^^ 
pose  to  save  guilty  men  through  the  redemption 
that  is  in  Christ  Jesus.  It  belongs  to  the  human 
mind,  that  when  allowed  to  act  according  to  its 
Ordinary  laws,  it  will  invariably iinbibe  views  and 
tendencies  from  the  habits  of  the  age  and  the  na** 
tion  to  which  it  belongs.  But  with  the  inspired 
writers  of  the  Bible,  it  was  directly  the  reverse.  ^Ife 
inatters  not  whether  it  was  Moses,  "  learned  in  ail 
the  wisdom  of  Egypt,"  and  a  daily  witness  of  the 
lyrarious  idolatries  interwoven  with  the  character  of 
the  people ;  whenever  he  takes  his  pen  to  write  for 
the  Bible,  his  mind  becomes  clarified  and  elevated 
above  all  these  superstitious  delusions ;  not  a  trace 
of  respect  for  Osiris,  or  Isis,  or  other  divinities  at 
Egypt,  appears  in  his  pages ;  while  all  honor  and 
worship  are  rendered  to  Jehovah,  the  covenant  God 
of  Abraham,  Isaac  and  Jacob,  offering  life  and  for* 
giveness  to  men  through  a  Messiah  yet  to  come.  li 
matters  not  whether  it  bo  Paul,  *' brought  up  at  the 


I  FIRST      LECTUBEl'-r  S9> 

feet  of  Gamaliel,"a  Phxirisee,  zealous  for  the  tradi* 
tions  of  the  elders,  and  proud  in  the  righteousness 
of  a  law  hy  which  he  counts  liimself  hlameless; 
wrhen  he  writes  for  the  Bihie,  his  Pharisaism  and 
pride  haVe  disappeared,  while  Christ  and  the  cross, 
as  foreshadowed  and  foretold  by  Moses  and  thq 
Prophets,  become  the  all  and  in  all  of  whiohrhia 
would  speak,  and  in  which  he  would  havel  rUie 
imorld  believe.  In  like  manned  wd  might  speak  of 
all  the  inspired  writers.  Whatever  may  have  been 
the  error  or  idolatry  prevailing  in  their  day,  not 
a  trace  of  it  is  to  be  found  mingled  with  the  puie 
truth  that  comes  from  their  pens  to  be  embalmed 
in  this  Holy  Bible.  Its  ever  brightening  pages  comie 
down  to  us  through  generation  after  generation, 
untainted  and  untarnished,  like  the  beams  of  the 
tising  sun  breaking  through  the  mists  and  vapors 
of  the  morning,  touching  them  only  to  dispel  them, 
and  then  to  burst  forth  in  its  own  native  splendor. 
bfiftAnd  while  we  find  the  Bible  thus  free  from 
the  delusions  of  former  ages,  see  also  how  it  har- 
monizes with  the  best  discoveries  of  Philosophy  in 
later  days.  If  we  examine  the  writings  of  the 
wisest  among  uninspired    men    on   questions    of 


'54  pVy^T?    iifeCTtTRE. 

■Science,  we  find  trfaM^e'Weories  otykmMfW^e 

'been  exploded  by  the  discoveries  of  to-day ;  and 

^  that  the  Philosophers  of  past  generations  are  conti- 

'  nually  shown  to  be  at  war  not  only  with  each  othet; 

but  also  with  truth,  as  it  becomes  better  knowh. 

But  here  is  the  Bible,  the  oldest  book  that  was  eV6r 

Written j  in  comparison  with  which  every  other  is 

-modern  ;  it  tells  us  of  the  heavens,  the ^un,  moon 

and  stars  ;  of  the  earth  and  the  sea,  and  all  that  in 

them  is  ;  of  their  origin  and  the  laws  that  govern 

.  them  and  bind  them  together  into  a  beautiful  whole. 

It  placed  its  teachings  respecting  these  subjects  oh 

record  thousands  of  years  ago,  when  Astronomy 

was  more  of  a  dream  than  a  Science,  when  Greo- 

,  logy,  Physiology,  and  Chemistry,  were  words  and 

things  unknown ;  and  yet,  notwithstanding  all  that 

Astronomy  has  since  done  to  make  us  familiar  with 

1  the  countless  orbs  of  heaven ;   notwithstanding  all 

that  Geology  has  done  to  extract  from  the  bowelis 

i  of /the  earth  the  remains  of  worlds  which  have 

existed  before  man  was  created;  notwithstanding 

all  that  Physiology  has  done  to  reveal  the  laws  of 

life;  notwithstanding  all  thait  Chemistry  has  done 

to  analyse  matter,  we  challenge  infidelity  to  pro- 


FIRST     LECTURE.  1^ 

Q^Upe  a  single  principle,  which  has  been  discovered 
gind  established,  in  this  wide  range  of  Science,  and 
^jy-hich  stands  in  conflict  with  any  truth  or  fact  known 
^c^jjl^p  contained  in  the  sacred  Volume.  Indeed,  t^s 
j^^  hope  to  show  in  the  progress  of  the  work  w© 
^JUiive  prescribed  to  ourselres,  so  far  is  the  Bible  ' 
^roJ3C^  liaving  anything  to  apprehend  .fropa  thq  in- 
^YP^tigations  of  Science,  that  it  invites  her  to  proceed 
^jY^ith  diligence  in  her  appropriate  task ;  and  while 
jf^  cautions  her  not  to  dishonor  her  own  name  by 
theories  that  are  crude  and  ephemeral,  it  asks  her 
fjt9  ^,^astea  forward  with  her  richest  stores  of  dis- 
xQY;Qry;y  that,  it  may  use  them  to  strengthen  its  owm 
,gl,wn3  on  the  faith  of  mankind,  by  showing  that 
pffhen  the  volume  of  natuye  is  most  widely  unfolded, 
jH-pdis  pl^ed  side  by  sid^.witlx  the  voliwojeof  the 
fgo§p^l,ithey  appear  like  twin  stars,  combining  Ao 
[f ^ed,  i  jiacreased  light  on  the  otherwise  dark  world 
^eneath  themMi  iojiiJxo  oi  onob  fciiil  ^^oloiiiJ  iudi 
QYSii^^i^h  this  view  of  the  subject  before  us,  we  will 
^k,  infidelity  to  account  for  such  an  unexampled, 
l^nresembled  exemption  from  error,  for  this  immacu- 
(Jl.ate  accuracy  of  the  Bible — nothing  from  beginning 
,(^  end  of  the  Book,  altered  or  erased,  or  needing 


^  FIRST      LECTUEE. 

alteration  or  erasure  to  make  its  parts  harmonise 
with  each  other,   to  free  its  pages  from  the  pre- 
judices or  delusions  of  the  age  or  the  land  in  which 
they  were  written;  or  to  hring  its  facts  and  its  dod- 
tenes  into  harmony  with  the  ever- widening  dis- 
coveries of  Science  and  Philosophy  ?    We  have  an 
explanation,  if  we  admit  that  the  Bible  needs  to 
undergo  no  emendations  or  changes,  because  ho^;^ 
ever  varied  as  to  their  condition  in  life,  their  attain* 
inents  of  mind,  or  the  age  in  which  they  liv^dj 
were  the  men  whose  pens  contributed  to  produce 
the  sacred   volume,  they  were  all   inspired,  wei^e 
itLQved  and  controlled  in  their  holy  work  by  thfit 
Omniscient  One  *'  who  seeth  the  end  from  the  be^ 
ginning;  neither  is  there  any  creatuiie^^  that  is  ii<^ 
manifest  in  his  sight,  but  unto  whose  eyes  all  things 
qi}»  haked  and  open."    This  solves  the  case,  and 
there  is  no  other  solution  which  is  either  just  oi* 
rationalyx>'^^  'io:ii^i  oxij  iiii  lo  xiii9^  oxii  ban  (Uomixid 
i-^i'  Let  me  add  a  w-ord  moire,  which  I  trust  mati^-- 
if  hot  all  before  me  will  rightly  appreciate.  If  such' 
b^  the  care  and  the  wisdom  with  which  the  Mosi 
High  God  has  prepared  his  Word ;  and  if  such  Ij^ 
the  care  and  vigilance  with  which  he  has  preserved 


itifApw  and  in  what  spirit  ought  we  to  regard  it? 
.g33ha  words  of  the  Lord  are  pure  words ;  as  silver 
(tried  in  a  furnace  of  earth  purified  seven  timesit! 
Do  we  value  them  and  honor  them  according  to 
their  worth?  I  appeal  to  the  generous  of  heart, 
iWho  shrink  from  the  imputation  of  ingratitude  as 
^  stain  on  their  names  and  a  poison  to  their  own 
peace.  Can  you  bring  yourselves  to  treat  lightly 
a  book  which  your  Creator  commends  to  your  faith 
l>y  stamping  on'  itsf  every  page  the  broad  seal  of 
{{eaven,  by  preserving  it  through  all  time  with  the 
wakefulness  of  an  eye  that  never  slumbers  not 
sleeps,  and  which  he  puts  into  your  hands  to  mark 
out  the  pathway  which  leads  you  to  heaven?  1 3/ 
appeal  to  men  of  enlightened  minds,  to  the  lovers 
of  truth  and  knowledge.  Can  you  find  a  book  in 
^hich  the  veins  of  wisdom  run  so  rich  and  deep, 
m  which  the  lore  of  former  ages  is  so  carefully  em- 
balmed, and  the  germ  of  all  the  later  acquisitions 
of  the  human  mind  is  seen  rising  so  brightly  and 
constantly  to  the  eye  of  every  reader?  And  lastly,; 
J  refer  to  that  condition  of  our  race  in  which  we 
all  share;  share  too  largely;  I  appeal  to  all  who 
IjfkAye  sins  to  be  forgiven ;  who  are  offenders  against 


68  '  FIRST    LECTURE. 

a  righteous  God;  tell  me,  sinful  men;  if  we  shut 
up  this  Bihle,  where  is  your  Hope?  If  there  is  no 
help  for  you  here,  neither  earth  nor  heaven  contains 
it.  In  all  the  wide  universe  of  God  there  is  neither 
truth  nor  reality  left  to  guide  you  in  life  or  support 
you  in  death,  and  you  are  lost,  lost  forever. 

^-  -^  \z^\  S^''^  ""^^  "^^ 

.jiOiv.ju£    iiiO  nT 

oi  it^iiiioieil  oiB  8  V7    .glnem 

noitMlqam  edi  •gni^oeqef)! 

^Ihorftrjja  orfl  jd    beliiea 

>f{i  ^HQshhmd  'c  TijJvBie^til 

ntltbObi    bi  r-q    oi    ZH    89hii?.*t97 

tni  ^niid  9W  eiolod  ;tiia    i'>fM^dff3 


i\0     :V    . 


on 


^..  {Causes  of  Infidelity  among  Men  of  Learning, 

John  iii.  19,  20. 
"And  this  is  the  condemnation,  that  light  is 
come  into  the  world,  and  men  loved  darkness  rather 
than  light,  because  their  deeds  were  evil.  For  every 
one  that  doeth  evil  hateth  the  light,  neither  comet h 
to  the  lif^ht,  lest  his  deeds  should  be  reproved.^^ 

In  our  previous  discourse  we  have  called  your 
attention  to  the  fact  that  men  of  learning  are  some- 
times found  in  the  ranks  of  infidelity,  and  we  have 
aimed  to  do  full  justice  to  their  literary  acquire- 
ments. We  are  hereafter  to  show  that  if  the  question 
respecting  the  inspiration  of  the  Bible  is  to  be 
settled  by  the  authority  of  names  renowned  for 
literature  in  all  its  branches,  the  friends  and  ad- 
vocates  of  the  holy  volume  so  far  outweigh  its  ad- 
versaries as  to  put  an  end  to  controversy  on  the 
subject.    But  before  we  bring  into  view  this  splen- 


«^  SECOND     LECTURE. 

dfd  array,  armed  with  the  panoply  of  truth,  the^ 
is^ah  important  inquiry  which  it  may  he  well  tu 
answer.  Admitting  that  men  of  learning,  who  are* 
on  utbe  side  of  infidelity,  are  comparatively  few, 
it  may  he  asked.  How  are  we  to  account  for  their 
avowed  unhelief  ?  Was  it  the  fruit  of  their  learn- 
ingilor  did  it  spring  from  a  very  different  and  le^s 
oreditahle  source  ?  * ' 

mibi  answer  I  might  call  up  one  of  their  own 
uumher,  and  refer  you  to  his  testimony.  The  his- 
tory of  John,  Earl  of  Rochester,  is  well  known.  He 
was  an  infidel  to  whom  his  friends  often  pointed 
as  a  star  of  no  common  hrilliancy.  His  courage 
Was  even  heroic,  showing  a  spirit  not  to  he  in«* 
fluenced  hy  any  cowardly  dread  of  death.  But  itf 
his  later  days,  when  cool  reflection  came  and  con- 
sfcieijce  was  allowed  to  speak  out,  wishing  to  undo 
the  evil  he  had  done  hy  his  profane  scoffs  against 
religion,  he  often  laid  his  hand  upon  the  Bihle  and* 
declared,  *^A  had  heart,  a  had  heart  is  the  great 
objection  against  this  Holy  Book ;"  and  most  care- 
fully did  he  provide  for  having  the  recantation  of 
his  infidelity  authenticated,  as  the  honest  and  de- 
liberate act  of  a  dying  man.    We  have  an  account 


SECOND     LECTURE.  tt 

<rf  the  cliange  which  passed  upon  him,  written  bjr 

tlie  i  venerable  Burnet,  of  which  Dr.  Johnson  has 

r^narked  th^t  "The  critic  ought  to  read  it  for  its 

excellence,  the  philosopher  for  its  arguments,  and 

the  saint  for  its  piety." 

a ,  iWe  believe  the  testimony  of  the  converted  Ro- 

c^^pter  to  be  tru^.    It  is  only  expressing,  in  other 

words,  what  our  Lord  teaches  in  tlie  text  when  he 

^ays  that  "light  is  come  into  the  world,  and  men 

loved  darkness  rather  than  light,  because  their  deeds 

^nare  evil.  Eor  every  one  that  doeth  evil  hateth  the 

light,  neither  cometh  to  the  lights  lle^  his  deeds 

should  be  reproved." /We  believe  that  in  all  cases 

iufidelity  has  its  ris^  and  progress  from  a'  bad  heart, 

iW)t  frqm  a  clear  heaxl;  from  enmity,  not  from  argu- 

ment  against  that  which  the  Bible  reveals;  and 

when  it  appears  among  the  learned,  we  believe  that 

sp  far  from  showing  enlargement  and  liberality  of 

mind,  it  betrays  what  we  may  denominate,  in  the 

mildest  language  adapted  to  the  case,  a  manifest 

want  of  sincerity  and  honesty  in  the  pursuit  of  truth. 

This  is  a  serious  accusation.    It  should  not  be 

lightly   made,  especially   against  men   who    have 

built  up  for  themselves  a  high  name  in  the  world 

4 


Of,  SECOND    LECTURE. 

of  letters.  It  should  not  be  allowed  to  rest  on 
evidence  in  the  least  equivocal  or  inconclusive. 
The  proofs  should  be  irrefragable  and  obvious  to 
every  candid  judge;  and  such  is  the  proof  we  have 
to  offer.  It  is  taken  mainly  from  the  confessions 
made  by  the  accused  themselves.  "Out  of  thine 
owi^.^mouth  will  I  judge  thee,"  said  his  Lord  to 
the  wicked  servant  who  had  misused  liis  talent: 
and  this  shall  be  our  rule  of  judgment  against  mew 
who  have  perverted  splendid  talents  and  great 
acquirements  to  discredit  the  Bible  and  dishonor 
its  divine  Author. 

In  prosecuting  the  subject,  I  know  not  what 
names  can  be  more  suitably  brought  forward  in 
this  connection  than  those  to  which  I  have  already 
referred,  as  Hume,  Rousseau,  Voltaire  and  Gibbon. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  as  to  the  influence  and  posi- : 
tion  of  these  men  in  the  ranks  of  infidelity.  Their 
spirit  was  not  confined  to  themselves.  Their  whole 
class  or  sect  was  imbued  with  it ;  and  what  is  true 
of  them,  may  be  expected  to  hold  true  of  those  who 
glory  in  being  their  followers.  Accordingly,  it  i» 
to  such  men  that  I  will  chiefly  refer  in  discussing 
the  point  now  before  us. 


SECOND     LECTURE.  63 

i^  Whether  happily  or  unhappily  for  their  owii 
good  name,  we  will  not  say;  but  happily  for  the 
cause  they  assailed,  the  Memoirs  of  these  leading 
infidels  have  been  placed  before  the  public  eye; 
prepared  too  for  our  perusal  by  no  unfriendly  hand^,^ 
but  on  the  contrary,  either  by  the  men  themselve^,^^ 
or  by  their  admirers,  who  would  be  inclined  to  "e^tl'^ 
tenuate  "  rather  than  **  set  down  aught  in  malice.*^ 
We  have  here  not  only  the  leading  events  of  their* 
lives,  showing  how  surrounding  circnmstances  may 
have   influenced  their  opinions  and  feelings,  but 
we  have  also  their  correspondence  and  conversa- 
tions with    friends  to  whom  they  communicated 
their  sentiments  unreservedly  and  fully.    There  is 
no  species  of  history  more  instructive  and  important 
than   such    faithful    portraitures   of    distinguished 
men,  whether    friends   or   enemies   of    truth    and 
righteousness.   It  is  when  we  see  them  in  their  un- 
guarded moments,  and   in  the  free  interchange  of 
thought  with  bosom  friends,  that  the  secret  springs 
of  action  are  developed,  and  the  heart  becomes  so 
unveiled  as  to  show,  not  only  what  they  have  done, 
but  why  they  have  done  it ;  not  only  what  they 
have  believed,   but   why   they   have  believed   it. 


f;From  such  evidence,   and  frcji^^    the- manner  jip 

I  which  they  have  conducted  their  public  assaults  on 

,  ^Christianity,  we  shall  draw  our  proof  that  the  pre- 

r>  Tailing  causes  of  infidelity  among  men  of  learning 

J  are  t^  be   found,  as  we  hav^.  said,  in  a<  iw^fit  pf 

If  candor  and  honesty  in  the  pursuit  of  truth  and,  a 

^.-blinding  hatred  of  the  truth  itself,  ,^^[^  ^^^  bluow 

ggo  V  They  claim  that  they  are   governed   in  their 

,» judgment  on  all  questions  by  the  principles  of  a 

i-^ound  and  enlightened  philosophy.     But  we  find 

-that  they  are   not  faithfu]  or  honest  in  their  in- 

ji  quiries  respecting  the  truth  of  the  Bible,  considered 

^mply  as  a  subject  of  philosophical,  iuyestigation. 

fyf>r  It  is   at  once  both  the  dictate  i  of  justice,  and 

3;<S|S6ential  to  sound  reasoning,  that  before  we  venture 

to  form  an  opinion  of  a  book  which  professes   to 

^pi^tof  high  and  iinportant  subjects,  "vv;e  should  at 

aJ^st  give  it-a.^refiiV  yi;e,ax%g^,,,i;5fjb^i^  f^r distance, 

g^f]ffould  Hume  or  Gibbon  have  said  concerning,  a 

j^ecritic^  who  should   have  pronounced  either  of  their 

Y>j]JistQries ,  to  be  a  mass  of  fictions,  or   a  string  of 

Qof^ude  and  awkward  blunders,  at  the  same  time  con- 

^^  fessing  he  had  never  read  the  work,  or  at  most,  had 

I  looked  into  it  but  partially  and  superficially?  Or, 


iiow  would  ah  objector  be  received,  who  shouid 
Represent  the  time  honored  works('<tf  Newton  6i 

Locke^  d$  i  confused  collection  of  dangerous  dog- 
«ffiffi  ^  6t  incomprehensible  mysteries ;  whea  at  the 
Haitie  i;ime  he  should  confess  that  he  hW'ne^r 
''^c^refuUy  perused  them?  Every  right-minded  m an 

would  cry  down  such  opinions,  as  equally  wortt- 
^Ifes  and  arrogant;  and  would  frown  on  the  rashness 
•^'anid  presumption  that  dared  to  pronounce  judgment 
^iiii  the  labors  of  such  i  authors,  without   Wviftg 

%Jieh  Weiry  jidihs  t6  Understand  thetti.  .  This  pk- 
"^Mimption  too  would  be  considered  wicked  and  wild 
•^iftlSt'iin  proportion  as  the  subjects  imder  considerar 

Won  were  of  high  importance,  and  the  authors  had 
^Tbeen  long  honored  and  trusted  by  many  of  the  wise 
^Wd  the  good.      '^  ^V^'  aounqo  ikn  iuiol  oJ 

iii  -'^Ndw  here  is  our  Bible,  which  brings  before  iis 
'^iubjects  of  immense  importance  to  man,  both  here 
'^'  and  hereafter;  and  which,  as  all  must  admit,  has 
^commanded  the  careful  study  and  full  b^ief -oi 
^many  among  the  greatest  and  best  of  men  in  every 
'^^ilj^e'."  'ts  it  philosophy,  any  more  than  it  is  justice 

^or  wisdom,  that  any  one  shall  pronounce  the  book 
'"^Wwortby  of  his  faith  until  he  has  carefully  read 


\^  SECOND      LECTURE. 

^nd  examined  it  ?  And  have  infidels  done  so  before 
they  gave  judgment  against  it?  You  shall  hear 
from  themselves :  uoiinoi^t^J  ifl^ila  axii  ;gnio«Biq 
gjfji,  Hume  confessed  that  he  had  never  read  the 
Bible  after  he  had  grown  to  mature  manhood.  This 
fact  was  notorious  among  his  cotemporaries.  Dr. 
Johnson,  in  conversation  with  several  literary 
friends,  once  observed,  in  his  usual  direct  and  un- 
equivocal manner,  that  no  honest  man  could  be  a 
Deist,  because  no  man  could  be  so  after  a  fair  ex- 
^ination  of  the  truths  of  Christianity.  When  thfe 
pame  of  Hume  was  mentioned  to  him  as  an  excepi. 
tion  to  his  remark;  he  replied,  "No  sir,  Hume  oncd 
owned  to  a  clergyman  in  the  bishoprick  of  Durham^ 
that  he  had  never  read  even  the  New  Testament 
with  attention."  >iiJ,iu  Jiumiuu  j.»'Mjr..uii.'uj>...B 

Gibbon  lets  us  know '  that  the  amount  '  of  his 
critical  reading,  when  finally  making  up  his  mind 
respecting  the  truth  of  the  Scriptures,  embraced 
only  the  Gospel  of  John,  and  one  chapter  in  the' 
Gospel  of  Luke.  Did  the  large  measure  of  Divine-^ 
unction  which  is  found  in  the  writings  of  the  dis-- 
ciple  whom  Jesus  loved,  prove  so  offensive  to  a- 
mind  like  Gibbon's,  that  he  could  not  persuade^ 


SECOND     LECTURB.^*  9! 

himself  to  go  farther  ?  Qr,  was  it  his  deliherate  de- 
sign to  put  contempt  on  the  Sacred  Volume,  by- 
placing  his  slight  attention  to  its  contents  in  coii- 
trast  with  the  careful  study  with  which  he  claims 
^Jp,  have  weighed  the  merits  of  other  booksi^^'  eld  la 
in  Hatley  the  astronomer  was  deeply  tinged  witli 
>^nfideUty.  On  a  certain  occasion  he  avowed  his 
scepticism  in  the  presence  of  Sir  Isaac  lie wtoti^; 
^>vhen  that  venerable  man  turned  to  him,  smrirtg", 
-zSif,  you  have  never  studied  these  subjecife,  iaiid  t 
have.  Do  not  disgrace  yourself  ds  a  philosopher  bf 
presuming  to  judge  on  questions  you  have  nevef 
examined,"  Halley  felt  himself  compelled  to  admii 
that  the  reproof  was  deserved^  iiiiii^^ioiii^oi  b-jfR/o 
iii^ijfi^  will  add  another  example  taken  frbnl  ^  welt 
authenticated  incident  in  the  life  of  Dr.  Benjamiif 
Franklin.  We  are  told  that  during  his  residence  in 
Paris  he  was  invited  to  a  company  erribracin^ 
many  of  the  courtiers,  and  of  the  distingnished^ 
men  who  signalized  the  age  in  which  they  lived  b)P 
their  learning  and  their  scepticism.  According  te) 
their  custom,  in  a  free  and  promiscuous  conversaJ 
tion,  Christianity  was  the  great  topic,  and  the  BP 
l^e  was  treated  with  unsparing  severity.    Growings 


warmer,  £a)d  more  profane  in  their  comments,  one 
^f  the  cx)mpany  attracted  universal  attention  by  as- 
'"'serting,  with  great  confidence,  that  the  Bible  was 
Inot  only  a  piece  of  gross   deception,  but  totally 
devoid  of  literary  merit.    With  the  exception  of 
Franklin,  the   entire  company  seemed   to  give  a 
hearty  assent  to  the  sentiment.    Being  at  the  time 
a  general  favorite,  his  companions  were  disquieted 
,  by  even  a  tacit  reproof  from  a  man  of  his  niigfit 
and  influence.    They  all  appealed  tb  him' for  his 
opinion.    He  replied,  in  his  owii  peculiar  miaiiiiei:, 
that  he  was  hardly  prepared  to  give  them  a  suit^ 
ble  answer,  as  his  mind  had  been  running  on  the 
merits  of  a  book  which  he  thought  of  rare  excel- 
lence, and  which  he  had  happened  to  find  in  one  of 
^  the  Paris  bookstores ;  and  as  they  had  made  allusion 
to  the  literary   character  of  the   Bible,  perhaps  it 
might  interest  them  to  compare  the  merits  of  his 
new  prize  with  that  old  volume.    If  so,  he  would 
<read  them  a  few  sentences.    All  were  eager  to  have 
*>him  proceed,  and  give  them  something  from  his 
"rare  book.     He  then  opened  it,   and  with  much 
gravity  of  manner,  and  propriety  of  utterance,  read 
to  them  the  words — "God  came  from  Teman,  and 


8RCONB     XE^^WBB.  809 

the  Holy  One  from  Mount  Paran.  His  glory  coy^r- 
,ed  the  Heavens,  and  the  earth  was  full  of  l^is 
:^praise.  His  brightness  was  as  the  light.  He  had  horJ^s 
.coming  out  of  His  hands,  and  there  was  the  hiding 
lof  His  power.  He  stood  and  measured  tiro  earth ; 
jHe  beheld  and  drove  asunder  the  nations.  The 
f-^verlasting  mountains  were  scattered ;  the  perpet.UL$.l 
fj^ills  did  bow.  His  ways  a^e  everlasting."  The  fo-w 
i sentences  made  a  de^  impression.  The  admirjiilg 
iylisteners  pronouiice<l  them  superior  to*  anything  thfiy 
had  heard  oi  read;  and  that  nothing  could  surp^s 
Jthem  in  grandeur  and  sublimity.  They  all  wi^togd 
oto  know  what  was  the  name  of  thi^  new  work,^  t^e 
name  of  its  author,  and  whether  this  was  a  spiBoi- 
Ijoaen  of  its  merits?  Certainly,  gentlemen,  said  Dl^. 
/Franklin,  smiling  at  his  triumph,  my  book  is  fall 
,iof  such  passages;  It  is  no  other  than  your  good-for- 
-nothing Eible.  I  have  read  to  you  a  short  pajfa- 
igraph  from  the  prayer  of  the  prophet  Habakkufc. 
ovi:  Such  are  the  men  who  assume  to  themselyes 
i^the  right  to  sit  in  judgment  on  the  truth  of  the 
.Bible ;  men  who  have  never  examined  the  bookrso 
IB»&  to  know  what  it  contains,  and  yet  profess  to  re- 
tject  it  as  the  result  of  philosophical  investigation. 


^^70 


SECOND    LECTURE, 


X-^fj^  Take  another  proof  of  their  want  of  fairness  in 
treating  the  question.  Whatever  may  be  affirmed 
or  denied  of  Christianity,  it  is  certainly  a  serious 
subject.  '  It  speaks  of  matters,  that  are  of  most 
solemn  import ;  that  ho  rational  man  should  touch 
or  even  approach  but  with  a  grave  and  reverential 
spirit.  It  teaches  the  fall  of  man  from  a  state  of 
innocence  and  happiness.  Into  a  state  of  sin  and 
suffering.  It  professes  to  show  the  compassion  ^  of 
God  in  saving  men,  and  tells  us  that  although  He  is 
"the  High  and  Holy  One  who  inhabiteth  Eternity" 
he  *'so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only  begot- 
ten Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  him  should  riot 
perish,  but  have  everlasting  life."  Is  this  matter 
for  jesting?  Is  it  fitting  or  rational  to  discuss  it 
with  isarcasms  and  scoffing?  Docs  it  comport  with 
a  sound  philosophy  to  contemplate  or  treat  it  in  this 
way  ?  And  yet  no  one  can  deny  that  these  are  the 
weapons  which  we  find  in  greatest  abundance 
in  the  hands  of  known  infidels.  It  is  only  at 
times  that  we  have  the  opportunity  of  encounteriiig 
them  in  the  field  of  logical  argument  or  sober  dis- 
cussion ;  and  when  plea  after  plea  for  their  scepti- 
cism is  shown  to  be  weak  and  worthless,  instead  of 


-.^KCOND      LECTURE.  71 

yielding  with  the  candor  and  frankness  of  a  manly 
{  spirit,  they  still  claim  to  he  unconquered,  because 
^  .they  can  utter  the  spiteful  sarcasm  or  the  con- 
j.^^pmptuous  sneer.  Nor  do  they  always  rest  satisfied 
J  till  they  have  gone  down  in  their  course  to  the  low 
J  depths  of  vulgar  scurrility.  When  Voltaire  spoke 
^  ^  of  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God,  the  Saviour  of  the 
£jjj^j^orld,  a, usual  exclamation  with  him  was  "Ecrasez 
]^r^fame" — "  Crush  the  wretch/'  and  the  blasphemy 
,^l  ;^*s  so  often  repeated  as  to  become  one  of  liis  house- 
<^  .pt9}li  >^pr.4^-  Ja  tfeis  spirit  of  low  abuse  ho  had  fol- 
^^^)p.^ier^,,|pp,  among  those  who  stood  high  in  his 
■X  nation,!  arid  who  may  perhaps  be  so-id  to  have  gone 
^^l^yon4  jtfieir  leader.  When  the  rulers  of  France 
j^rQS^ujp;,"  against  the  Lord  and  against  his  anoint- 
^[^*\^^xxng  the  reign  of  terror  and  impiety  which 
Pj^wept  over  the  land  like  a  whirlwind,  they  devised 

ftnd  established  a  Calendar  wliich  was  a  singular 
.^.^9pmpound  of  blasphemy,  pedantry  and  vulgarity, 
j^. Desirous  of  obliterating  every  feature  or  material  ol 
^jphristianity  which  has  long  been  interwoven  with 
,^^:^he  Calendar  of  civilized  nations,  they  changed 
,,  .^th  the  designation  and  beginning  of  the  year,  the 
>  duration  of  the  months  and  weeks;  and  to  render 


T2  SECOND   i.Ecrtr^J!. 

the  revolntion  in  the  calculations  of  time  as  radical 
as  in  every  thing  else,  each  day  of  the  year  was 
distinguished  hy  a  separate  title  of  its  own,  the  new 
menclature  heing  generally  taken  from  the  product 
tions  of  agriculture,  or  from  domestic  animals.  Chid 
day  was  denominated  from  the  apple,  another  from 
the  olive ;  another  from  the  horse,  another  from  the 
ox.  But  when  the  Convention  came  to  assign  a 
distinct  name  to  Christmas,  the  25th  of  December^ 
on  which  it  has  been  generally  believed  that  Christ 
was  bom,  this  day  is  deliberately  denominated  thie 
day  of  the  Dog!  To  this  low  point  of  blasphemous 
scurrility,  so  revolting  to  every  sense  of  decency  and 
piety,  could  the  leading  minds  of  the  nation  descend^) 
when  steeped  in  the  poison  of  Infidelity,  a  j  onim 
.cw  Assaults  like  these,  whether  in  coarse  abusej 
ot  more  polished  witticisms,  may  draw  forth  th^ 
sigh  of  pity  and  sorrow,  but  they  are  not  to  be  met 
by  a  reply  in  kind  from  those  who  would  obey 
their  Master's  will.  The  christian  advocate  of  the 
Holy  Bible  should  view  himself  as  the  disciple  of 
Him  who  has  commanded  us  not  to  render  "railing 
for  railing;  but  contrariwise,  blessing,  knowing 
that  we  are  hereunto  called,  that  we  should  inherit 


SECOND     LBCTUSIi  "73 

ieilessing."  Infidels  are  always  safe  from  pursuit 
wbcnrthey  betake  themselves  to  the  path  of  the 
scofier.  It  would  b^  alike  useless  and  unbecoming 
torfollow  them.  "Who  can  refute  a  sneer?"  has 
been  wisely  remarked  by  the  judicious  Paley, 
when  speaking  of  the  irreverent  and  sarcastic  ut* 
taidtfl  of  Gibbon  on  the  Christian  faith.  ifi  orfj 
JB  nLei  us  take  another  view  of  the  unfairness  and 
dishonesty  to  which  we  refer.  We  are  now  meet* 
ing  our  infidel  oppios^rs  as  philosophers,  the  name 
aal  "which  they  are  constantly  glorying.  But  true 
philosophy,  wheil  tracing  eifects  to  their  causes,  will 
be  careful  to  distinguish  the  rule  from  the  ex- 
ception, and  the  exception  from  the  rule ;  to  deters 
mine  between  the  legitimate  and  the  spurious, 
between  natural  results  and  those  which  are  ano- 
malous and  unnatural.  "  The  tree  is  known  by  its 
fruits,"  is  a  sound  principle  in  science,  and  a  car- 
ditial  doctrine  in  theology.  It  is  common  sense,  it 
48^  general  experienceiirfa  eilT  .liiw-  bSoi^JsM  nmii 
lo  We  ask  for  the  application  of  this  rule  in  form- 
tG§a  judgment  on  the  practical  results,  the  natu- 
Xs\  tendencies  of  Christianity.  We  ask  that  the 
_  tree  should  be  judged  by  its  fruits.    We  ask  that 


T4  SECOND     LECTURE. 

the   consequences  which  can  be   proved    to   flow  " 
from  Christianity  as  the  legitimate    fruit  of  the 
system,  should  be  distinguished  from  those  which*' 
have  no  ti'ue  alliance  with  her  teachings  or  her''^' 
influences.  But  this  is  just  what  the  infidel  refuses ^^^ 
to  do.    He  exhibits  the  exception  as  the  rule."  As^'' 
if  loving  to  violate  truth  and  right,  he  holds   up  ^ 
the  decayed  apple  as  the  only  product  of  the  treel^'^ 
and  overlooks  the  rich  and  plenteous  fruit  which 
meets  the  eyes  of  every  one  who  has  the  will  to 
see  it  and  to  taste  it.    If  he  finds  among  christians 
an  example  of  unhappiness  or  depression  of  spirit, 
he  imputes  to  Christianity  the  misery  and  gloom 
which  it  was  sent  to  remove  and  dispel.    This  in- 
justice and  impiety  have  at  times  exposed  the  in- 
fidel to  mortifying  chastisement.    "I  never  saw  a 
religious    man   who   was   not    melancholy,"    said 
Hume  to  Bishop  Home;   to  which   the  excellent 
man  replied,   "That,  sir,  may  be  very  true;  for  it 
is  enough  to  make  any  one  melancholy  who  meets 
with  Mr.  Hume,  and  thinks  of  how  he  is  pervert- 
ing his  best  talents  to  rail  against  the  God  who 
made  him."  Would  such  men  judge  wisely  and 
justly  respecting  the  influence  of  our  religion  in 


SECOND,,.  l.ECTyRj;.  •         75 

removing  unhappiness  and  disquietude  from  the 
heart,  let  them  come  with  us  where  Christianity 
acts  itself  out  most  freely;  let  them  come  into  our 
assemblies  of  worship,  and  listen  to  our  songs  of 
praise  to  Him  who  has  redeemed  us  by  His  blood  ; 
and  there  learn  whether  our  religion  makes  us 
gloomy.  Or  if  it  would  be  too  much  for  them  to 
go  with  us  into  a  house  of  worship,  let  them  go 
with  us  into  the  wide  fields  of  creation,  where  the 
sun  shines  to  give  life  and  light  to  the  world  be- 
neath him,  where  the  flowers  perlume  the  air  that 
we  may  breathe  it;  and  let  us  see  who  derives  most 
enjoyment  frora  the  bright  scene  before  us ;  whether 
the  Christian  who  can  say. "My  Father  made  them 
all,"  and  made  them  for  my  happiness  as  I  pass 
through  this  world  to  a  better;  or  the  infidel  who 
seps  in  this  living  panorama  of  Heaven's  goodness 
only  the  working  of  some  hidden  mechanism  oi 
nature,  blindly  producing  its  usual  round  of  results. 
gjEqual  injustice  is  done  to  Christianity  in  re- 
ference to  her  influence  on  the  peace  and  prospe- 
rity of  communities  and  nations.  We  proclaim  it 
as  the  natural  fruit  of  her  teachings  and  her  spirit, 
that  she  would  bind  men  together  in  one  family 


T6  SECOND    LECTURE. 

of  universal  brotherhood,  that  she  would  render 
the  strong  the  protectors,  not  the  oppressors  of  the 
weak,  that  she  would  subdue  the  bitter  passions 
of  hatred  and  envy,  and  drive  them  from  the  bo- 
soms and  the  abodes  of  men.  And  we  have  ample 
right  to  declare  that  such  blessings  are  the  native 
fruits  of  Christianity ;  a  right  arising  from  her 
doctrines,  from  her  precepts,  and  from  what  she  is 
known  to  have  done  when  allowed  to  exercise  her 
sway.  Her  first  great  command  is,  *'  Thou  shalt 
love  the  Lord  thy  God,"  and  her  "  second  is  like 
unto  it,  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself" 
She  was  ushered  into  the  world  with  the  procla- 
mation from  the  skies,  "  Glory  to  God  in  the 
highest,  on  earth  peace  and  goodwill  to  men." 
Her  own  beautiful  description  of  the  mission  she 
came  to  fulfil  in  subduing  evil  and  enmity  among 
men  is  in  the  words,  "  They  shall  beat  their  swords 
into  ploughshares  and  their  spears  into  pruning 
hooks,  neither  shall  they  learn  war  any  more;" 
"tlie.W:olf  also  shall  dwell  with  the  lamb  and  the 
leopard  shall  lie  down  with  the  kid;  the  calf,  and i 
the  young  lion  and  the  fatling  together,  and  a  little 
child    shall    lead    them — and    the    sucking    child 


SECOND      LECTURE. 


w 


Bliall  play  on  the  hole  of  the  asp,  and  the  weaned 
child  shall  put  his  hand  on  the  cockatrice's  den. 
They  shall  not  hurt  nor  destroy  in  all  my  holy 
mountain."  And  we  claim  that  she  has  abundantly 
fulfilled  these  glowing  predictions,  that  she  has 
actually  wrought  these  wonders  of  loving  kindness 
and  peace  wherever  we  find  her  disciples  bearing 
her  name  and  breathing  her  spirit.  In  her  earliest 
days,  and  when  she  first  spread  abroad  her  domin- 
ion through  the  world,  it  was  the  confession  of  her 
enemies,  "Behold  how  these  Christians  love  one 
another."  '  li.i  ui  ;.!l  '•/(  • 

But  how  have  such  historians  as  Hume,  Ym-^ 
taire  and  Gibbon  described  her;  described  her  in 
her  influence  upon  the  peace,  the  harmony  and  the 
benevolence  of  men  and  of  nations?  Their  unjust 
accusations,  their  revolting  caricatures  are  but  too 
well  known  and  read  of  all  men.  The  followers 
of  the  Redeemer  who  came  to  create  peace,  peace 
to  him  that  is  afar  off*  and  to  him  that  is  near, 
are  habitually  described  as  fanatics  and  incen- 
diaries who  make  war  on  the  kindest  amenities  of 
human  life,  and  have  drenched  the  earth  with 
blood  to  spread  a  dogma  or  a  sect.    Nero  set  fire  to 

5 


V8  SEOaND      LECTURE. 

Kome,  and  burnt  to  ashes  the  fairest  portions  of 
the  city  in  order  to  gratify  his  fiendish  love  of 
cruelty  and  wickedness ;  and  although  Christians 
were  among  the  foremost  in  their  efforts  to  stay 
the  progress  of  the  devouring  element,  he  accused 
theiii  of  being  the  incendiaries,  and  put  them-^ti 
ileath  in  tens  of  thousands  for  the  crime  falselj^ 
laid  to  their  charge.  His  conduct  is  a  striking  illus- 
iratioii  of  the  treatment  Christianity  has  received 
froitn  infidel  historians.  Crimes  which  she  cori^ 
d^ms,  evils  which  she  was  sent  into  the  world  to 
J)revent  or  to  cure,  have  been  charged  to  her  aci 
^unt,'  until  she  has  been  made  responsible  foir 
atrocities  not  less  degrading  and  repulsive  thaii 
fever  stained  the  pages  of  Pagan  idolatry  or  Maho- 
Inedan  delusion.  Had  infidels  carried  the  samd 
ihode  of  argument  into  questions  of  science  and 
letters  which  they  have  employed  against  the 
christian  religion,  they  would  have  been  treated 
with  derision  and  scorn. 

'  Farther  still :  while  they  have  thus  disregarded 
S5he "principles  of  justice  and  the  rules  of  sound 
reasoning,  we  have  evidence'  that  in  their  profes- 
sions of  infidelity,  they  also  violate  their  own  con^ 


.SECOND      LECTURE.  .W 

victions  of  truth.  How  was  it  with  Hume?  He 
was  pleased  to  be  known  as  the  correspondent  of 
distinguished  divines.  In  a  letter  fromDr.  Bkiir  it 
appears  that  the  subject  of  his  infidelity  had  been 
introduced,  and  we  would  hope  with  becoming  pro- 
testations agamst  it.  In  his  reply  he  says  "I  have 
long  since  done  with  inquiries  on  these  subjects  and 
ain  become  incapable  of  instruction.  I  beg  that  in 
time  to  come  they  may  be  forborne  between  usJf 
And  yet,  anxious  as  he^  was  to  exclude  these  sub- 
|ects  from  his  thoughts,  at, times  they  forced  them- 
selves upon  him,  and  compelled  him  to  acknowledge 
his  conviction  of  their  importance.  I  do  not  now 
refer  to  the  evidence  of  it  seen  in  his  uneasy 
and  confused  expression  of  countejiance,  indicating 
something  more  than  mortified  vanity,  whenever  he 
heard  the  names  of  such  men  as  Campbell  and 
Beattie,  Warburton  and  Hurd,  who  had  exposed  his 
sophistries  and  castigated  his  impieties.  But  || 
quote  confessions  which  came  from  his  own  lips. 
|,oh\Sorrow,  especially  at  the  death  of  friends  and 
near  relatives  will  often,  at  least  for  the  time,  so 
drive  vanity  and  pride  from  the  heart,  that  it  will 
speak   out  its  real^Jeeliftgs^'ith  sincerity.     Con- 


,49cience  then  gains  a  «way  which  jt  may  not  have 
.^lossessed   in   the  /hour  r  pf.  gladness   and  self-con- 
fidence.   Hume  so  felt  it  notwithstanding  his  well- 
known    ambition   to   be   the    stoical    philosopher. 
When  the  news  of  his  mother's  death  reached  him, 
^whether  owing,  to  cpmpunctipii j  fp^  efforts  he  had 
^eiade  to  depriyje  J^g^x  9f,  hpf  .faith  in  tlip  Cj^pspeL  m 
to  some  pther  cause,  he /w;asj  j  plunged  iiitp  the  deey- 
.^gfjbij^^iction,^  The  fr|iien4>^|ip  witnessed  it^  and 
c)5<^^  wished  both  to  console  and  benefit  h^m,  toojt 
•occasion  to  ^4<y^^",^ctH  ow,9  t^jg  uncommon  grief  to 
your  havmg  thrown  off  the  principles  of  religion : 
,  for  if  you  had  not,  you  would  have  been  consoled 
^by  the  firm  belief  that  the  gopd  lady,  who  was 
\jfk<f^,pxily  the  best  of  mothers,  but  the  most  pious 
,j-i^  Christians,  is  happy  in  th,e  realm  of  the  just." 
,3 To  which  the  sorrowing  infidel  replied,  "Though  I 
g  flfhrow  out  my  speculations  to  -entertain  the  learned 
)  and  metaphysical  world,  yet  in  other  things  I  do 
not  think  so  differently  from  the  rest  of  mankind 
(i^m,  you  imagine."  By  his  own  showing  then,  Hume's 
.hypocrisy  was  as  reckless  as  it  was  deliberate  and 
w  profane;  and  the  confession  which  grief  wrung  from 


SECOND     LECTUKE.  %l 

respect  from  any  man  who  values  truth  and  sincerity 
m  things  that  are  sacred.  "As  a  madman  who 
casteth  fire-brands,  arrows  and  death,'  so' is^' 'tile 
man  ihat  deceiveth  his  neighbor,  and  saith,  Am. 

'rio^T  iii  sport  t*^    The  incident  is  perhaps  the  more 
inipressiVe,  as  it  l^iid  been  carefully  spread  belbte 

^ihe  public  by  one  of  his  relatives  in  order  to  sav^ 
itis  name  from  a  ^tUl  Worse  imputatibh/^^'^^^^^^ 
*'^  As  anbtiier  evidehcfe  of  the  moral  iiii^itliae 
to  which  he  had  reduced  himself  when  treating  the 
subject  of  religion,  we  may  refer  to  an  event  which 
many  of  his  admirers  have  admitted  to  be  a  caufee 
of  embarrassment  and  shame.  The  mind  df  a  youiig 

^^dergyman,   Mr.  V ,  belonging  to  the  church  of 

England,  had  become  perverted  by  a  perusal  of 
Hume's  writings.  He  felt  that  having  lost  his  be- 
lief in  the  truth  of  Christianity,  he  could  not,  as  a 
man  of  candor  and  truth,  continue  to  preach  its 
doctrines.  In  this  dilemma  he  applied  to  one  of 
Hume's  friends,  who  referred  the  case  to  Hume  him- 
self, saying  "You  are  somewhat  bound  to  give  him 
your  best  advice.  Y is  a  very  good-natured,  ho- 
nest, sensible  fellow,  without  any  fortune.  He  seema 
ratherlnclined  not  to  be  a  clergyman ;  but  you  know 


^  SECOND      LECTURE. 

as  well  and  better  than  I  do  how  difficult  it  is  tb 
get  any  tolerable  civil  employment.  If  you  should 
determine  on  his  being  aclergyman,  throw  in  some- 
thing consolatory  on  his  being  obliged  to  renounce 
white  stockings  the  rest  of  his  life."         i^'^^'^'i'^  ooJ 

Hume  replied  "Let  Mr  V ,  adhere  to  th^  ^ 

Qlesiastical  profession ;  for  civil  employment  for  men 
of  letters  can  scarcely  be  found."  And  he  adds,  a'lS 
his  reason  for  giving  this  advice,  "It  is  putting  tod 
great  a  respect  on  the  vulgar,  and  on  their  supersti- 
titois,  to  pique  one's  self  oh  sincerity  with  regard  id 
them.  Did  ev^  bile  make  it  a  point  of  honor  t6 
^eak  truth  to  children  or  madmen?  If  the  thing 
vvei-e  worthy  being  treated  gravely,  I  should  tell 
bjtm,  that  the  Fjrthian  oracle,  with  the  approbfitioh 
Off  Xenophon,  advised  ev^r^^  one  to  worship  the 
Gods — vo^cj  7io'A£i6g.  I  wish  it  were  still  in  ihy^ 
power  to  be  a  hypocrite  in  this  particular.  The 
common  duties  of  society  usually  require  it;  ailS 
the  ecclesiastical  profession  only  adds  a  little  more 
to  an  innocent  dissimulation,  or  rather  simulation,' 
without  which  it  is  impossible  to  pass  through  the 
world."  '   8iuj:)t3q.- 

We  are  not  told  whether  the  young  man  follow- 


SECOND      LECTURE.  «», 

^  the  iniquitQus  advice  to  spend  a  life-time  of  de- 
peptipiii  a,^  a  i  minister  in  the  church  of  Grod.    But 
AYj^iWOjiiLld.  fondly  hope  that,  however  unscrupulous 
in^y  have  been  the  master  who  gave  it,  it  involved 
too  gross  a  violation  of  truth  and  of  ^fidelity  to  his 
own  conscience  for  the  disciple  to  foll6>viit)jnn  li 
n^uJf  this  was  the  fit  place  for  the  dem6iisitlb>atu»i9 
we  might,  gq  on  and  spread  before  you  oonivhkieln^ 
p^Qof^  pf ,  Huuiei's  dishonesty  in  his  far-famed  ^^Hi«d 
tory  of  England."    Hostility  to  religion,  ad miratwig 
9I  p;Qyal  preipgative,  and  opposition  to  the  rjghtd 
of  the  peoplej  were  predominant  feelings  with  «hiwU 
>Yj^ePi  he^ :  prepared  tha,t  able  and  insidious  wbrki^ 
and  ujader  the  searching  investigations  of  Bi*odi© 
and  others,  he  stands  convicted  of  having  wilfullyii 
garbled  and  mutilated  facts  of  essential  importance; 
in  order  to  answer  his  unworthy  endavr  i.>^w — ^^(kjO 
^.f'^ronp.   this   painful    exhibition    of    insinceri^jyi 
and  dishonesty  in  one  whom  many  have  long  de-j 
lighted  to  honor,  let  us  turn  to  another  and  a  very? 
different  man,  though  both  noted  for  their  Infidelity,. 
I^et,  us  hear  the  voluntary  and  deliberate  confession 
of  Rousseau,   respecting  whom  we  are  told   by  a 
pi(^^(^  nearly  allied  to  him  in  spirit: 


an  SECOND    I,E0,TURJ5.P. 

q^j  i       "  His  life  was  I  one  long  war  with  self-bought  f'^^SL^r^.yrr  rv/{* 
**  Or  friends  by  him  self-banished ;  for  his  mind 

t\Oui  «* Had  grown  suspicion^' sanctuary,  arid  <}hbse,noiJoib  'to 

o  ■<,  ,.,\  "For  its  own  cruel  sacrifice,  the  kind       •  r 

"  'Gainst  whom  he  raged  with  fury  strange  and  blind ; 

'iyt'ni:  "  And  from  him  came, ) .    o<;  ooiio  Jii  Aood 

"  Those  oracles  which  set  the  world  in  flame ; 
-ifuif  'i^Wot  ceased  to  bum  till  kingdoms  were  no  inoceSlJf^Ioaieq 

odi  i)omiJ&^Si  Oil  Jiixli  bail  ^w  oU  Uunu  mom  j3  lias 
^^^'i  ¥hfe{'"self  torturing  sophist"  never  could  so 
utterly  destroy  his  innate  sense  of  the  beautiful  or 
the  grand  as  not  to  admire  it  whether  he  saw  it  in 
the  opening  flower,  the  lofty  mountain,  or  the  page 
of  history  though  it  might  he  the  page  of  inspire 
tion.  We  cite  his  confession  the  more  willingly  he- 
cause  of  the  care  which  he  has  himself  taken  to 
place  it  on  record.  In  his  "  Emilius  "or  ^'  Treatise 
of  Education,"  perhaps  the  kast  exceptionable  of 
^fell  'his  works,  speaking  as  if  to  a;  son  or  a  young 
friend  whom  he  would  aim  to  instruct,  he  gives  this 
remarkable  and  impressive  testimony  to  the  truth 
and  excellence  of  Christianity  and  to  the  divinity 
of  its  author,  *-'v-'irxo^>'rvjt^&j.c*j.iJii3  i.  tjiij  ivn  jjoxIj 

<AJ  a  J  -^11  confess  to  y6tf,  I^M  the  majesty  of  the 
'Scriptures  strikes  me  with  admiration,  as  the  purity 
of  the  gospel  hath  its  influence  on  my  heart.  Peruse 


SECOND      LECTURE.  <• 

the  works  of  our  philosophers  with  all  their  pomp 
of  diction  ;  how  jnean,  how  contemptible  are  they, 
compared  with  the  Scrt^ture!  Is  it  possible  that  a 
book  at  once  so  simple  and  sublime  should  be  mere- 
ly the  work  of  mini?  Is  it  possible  that  the  sacred 
persona^,  whose  history  it  contains,  should  be  him- 
self a  mere  man?  Do  we  find  that  he  assumed  the 
^^i,<rf>an^  enthusiast  or  ambitiouB  Bectary?  What 
sweetness,  what  purity  in  his  manners !  What  ap 
affecting  gracefulness  in  his  delivery!  What  sub- 
^limity  in  his  maxims!  What  profound  wisdom  i|i 
his  discourses !  What  presence^  of  mind,  what  sub- 
tilty,  what  truth  in  his  replies !  How  great  the  com- 
(jnand  over  his  passions  !  Where  is  the  man,  where 
tlie  philosopher,  who  could  so  live  and  so  die,  with- 
out weakness  and  without  ostentation  ?  When  Plato 
described  his  imaginary  good  man  loaded  with  all 
Jbhe  shame  of  guilt,  yet  meriting  the  highest  re- 
wards of  virtue,  he  describes  exactly  the  character 
pf  Jesus  Christ ;  the  resemblance  was  so  striking 
that  all  the  Fathers  perceived  it.  ftj-fp,  '^:tf  lo 

C3^|  t  What  prepossession,  what  blindness  must  it  be 
to  compare  the  son  of  Sophroniscus  to  the  son  of 
MmyJ  y(iif\!\MKk^^uit^  disproportion  there  is  be- 


^^6  SECOND      LECTURiE. 

tween  them !  Socrates,  dying  without  pain  or  igno- 
miny, easily  supported  his  character  to  the  laiSt; 
and  if  his  death,  however  easy,  had  not  crowned 
his  life,  it  might  hare  heen  douhted  whether 
Socrates,  with  all  his  wisdom,  was  anything  more 
than  a  vain  sophist.  He  invented,  it  is  said,  the 
theory  of  morals.  Others,  however,  had  before  put 
them  in  practice :  he  had  only  to  say  what  they  had 
done,  and  reduce  their  examples  to  preceptis.  Arls- 
tides  had  been  just,  before  Socrates  defined  justice; 
Leonid  as  gave  up  his  life  for  his  country,  before 
Socrates  declared  patriotism  to  be  a  duty;  the  Spdr- 
tans  were  a  sober  people  before  Socrates  recorii- 
mended  sobriety  ;  before  he  had  even  defined  virtue, 
Grreece  abounded  with  virtuous  men.  But  where 
could  Jesus  learn,  among  his  compatriots,  that  pure 
and  sublime  morality  of  which  he  only  hath  given 
us  both  precept  and  example.  The  greatest  wisdom 
was  made  known  amidst  the  most  bigoted  fanati- 
cism, and  the  simplicity  of  the  most  heroic  virtu:es 
did  honor  to  the  vilest  people  on  the  eatth.'  The 
death  of  Socrates,  peaceably  philosophizing  with 
his  friends,  appears  the  most  agreeable  that  could 
be  wished  for;  that  of  Jesus,  expiring  in  the  midst 


SECOND     LECTURE.  87 

of  agonizing  pains,  abased,  insulted,  cursed  by  a 
whole  nation,  is  the  most  horrible  that  could  be 
•  feared.     Socrates,  in  receiving  the  cup  of  poison, 
blessed  indeed  the  weeping  executioner  who  admi- 
jjinistered  it:  but  Jesus  in  the  midst  of  excruciating 
ntprtures  prayed  for  his  merciless  tormentors.    Yes, 
jiij^the  life  and  death  of  Socrates  are  those  of  a  sage, 
l.tjielife  and  death  of  Jesus  are  those  of  a  God. 
..Shall  we  suppose  the  evangelic  history  a  mere  fic- 
.tJcMi?   Indeed,  my  friend,  it  bears  not  the  marks  of 
rfietion^  oathe  contrary,  the  history  of  Socrates, 
(Tyhich  nobody  presumes  to  doubt,  is  not  so  well  at- 
Jested  as  that  of  Jesus  Christ.     Such  a  supposition 
.j^  ft\ct  only  shifts  the  difficulty  without  removing 
oitti  It  i»  more  inconceivable  that  a  number  of  per- 
o-^ns  should  agree  to  write  such  a  history,  than  that 
i^oiMQonly  should  furnish  the  subject  of  it.   The  Jew- 
,,ish  authors  were  incapable  of  the  diction,  and  stran- 
jgeii;^;to(rthe  morality  contained  in  the  Grospel;  the 
^^jpaarks  of  whose  truth  are  so  striking  and  inimita- 
yi^Je  that  the  inventor  would  be  a  more  astonish- 
ing character  than  the  hero/iq  ,Hifiiiv.H}3  ioMwjb 
blnoo"  Js  Saul  also  among  the  prophets?"  might  justly 
j^|^C|, asked  in  view  of  these  sentiments  coming  from 


the  pen  of  the  unbelieving  Rousseau.  No  wondei^ 
that  Voltaire,  D'Alembert  and  other  infidels  of  th^ 
day  should  haVe  been  so  vexed  and  irritated  witti 
him  for  having  made  such  an  unlooked  for  confes^ 
sion,  that  they  had  almost  disowned  him  from  their 
infidel  brotherhood.  He  presents  to  us,  and  in  a 
very  striking  manner,  those  strong  arguments,  taketi 
from  the  internal  evidence  on  behalf  of  the  gosp^f 
which  ho  ihgenMtyhaL^  ^^^t^been  eMe  to  refute; 
he  acknowledges  that  he  felt  their  force;  and  yet  h^ 
still  persisted  in  infide-lity,  and  spent  his  subsequemt 
life  in  efforts  tci  malign  and  destroy  the  rdigito,  to 
the  truth  of  which  he  had  borne  such  tinequiv66febl/ 
and  as  he  says,  such  heartfelt  testimony*  ^^'  i-'nioiii 
Sjieh  proofs  of  insincerity,  of  deliberate  violehee 
to  their  own  convictions,  as  we  have  given  from 
i^e  lives  of  Hume  and  Rousseau,  might  be  greatly 
multiplied ;  and  they  throw  a  dark,  dark  shade,  not 
only  on  Infidelity,  but  on  the  infidel  himself  They 
betray  a  want  of  honesty,  and  a  disregard  of  truth, 
which  if  practiced  in  the  ordinary  concerns  of  life 
would  go  far  to  banish  a  man  from  respectable  so- 
ciety. It  has  been  said  of  Gibbon,  that  he  assails 
Christianity  with  the  temper  of  a  man  who  sought 


SECOND     LECT,U«*.:  SI 

to  resent  a  persoaal  injury;  and  the  sentiment  is 
^ut  a  fair  verdict  concerning  infidel  writers  general^ 
^ivjr^ey  act  under  a  bias  that  would  exclude  thein 
froju  passing  judgment  on  a  question  at  issue  be- 
<|ween  man  and  man  in  a  court  of  justice.  They 
feel  that  they  have  a  personal  controversy  with  the 
Pible,  and  they  aim  to  discredit  it  as  a  measure  of 

self-defence  and  self-justificatioa.fj5jnatni  erit  nioii 
;'xti*!lWitli  bitch  a  temper  apparent,"  s^-ys  the  veor 
arable  Wilson,  in  his  lectures  on  the  subject,  "  I  hav^ 
^l&ey  to  the  secrets  of  tlieir  unbelief/') ,c>t^ip-j*^  \\\^p^ 
ot  jtlsee  one  writer  speaking  of  the  life  and  disf 
courses  of  our  Saviour  with  the  ignorance  and  buf*- 
foonery  of  a  jester,  and  asserting  that  ridicule  is  the 
tast  of  truth ;  1  want  no  one  to  inform  me  that  he 
ift,|ija  unbeliever,  ,,t 

yd; "I  see  another  virtually  denying  all  humanf  ieisk 
feaaony  with  one  breatli,  and  with  another  defendt 
mg  suicide  and  apologizing  for  lewdness  and  adul- 
j^ry:i — ^^I  do  not  ask  if  he  is  dissatisfied  with  the 
Ghristian  evidence,  i/io  oil)  lu  liooiioiiiq  U  xl'-iiiiv/ 
-Ofe  611  see  a  third,  afler  coihposifig  a  work  full  of 
feypocrisy  and  deceit  on  the  subject  of  religion,  pubr 
l^ing  it  to  the  world  on  tho  persuasion  of  having 


00  SECOND    LECTURE. 

heard  a  voice  from  heaven.     I  observe  another  ex~ 
plaining  away  the  historical  narrative  of  the  Old'r^ 
Testament  as  a  mere  mystical  representation  of  the  ^ 
signs  of  the  zodiac.   'T'ste^^  M^  rioble  poet  betray- 
ing,   throughout    his    profligate    wi'itings,   capricie*  l 
and  vanity,  self-conceit  and  misanthropy,  together 
With  an  abandonment  of  a;ll  moral  feeling.   I  want 
no  one  to  explain  to  me  the  sources  of  the  unbelief 
of  such  writers.  ^ 

"I  turn  to  6u't* niodern  historians,  and  I  mark 
their  blunders  in  whatever  relates  to  religion,  their 
inconsistencies,  their  misrepresentations,  the  impu- 
rities which  defile  their  pages,  their  vanity  and  self-' 
confidence,  and  the  malice  and  spleen  with  which 
they  pursue  the  followers  of  Christ.  I  ask  no  fur- 
ther questions. 

"  I  open  the  works  of  the  German  infidels,  and 
find  the  index  of  their  true  temper  in  the  follies  and 
absurdities  with  which  they  are  content  to  forsake 
all  common  sense  in  their  comments  on  the  sacred 
text,  and  to  exhibit  themselves  as  the  gazing-stocks 
of  Christendom. 

"  I  cast  my  eye  on  the  flippancy  of  the  French 
school  of  irreligion,  and  see  such  entire  ignorance  of 


SECOND      LECTURE.  91 

the  simplest  points  of  religious  knowledge,  such 
gtoss  impurities,  cjonnected  with  blasphemies  which 
I:  dare  not  repeat;  I  see  , such,  an.  obvious  attempt 
to  confound  truth  and  fiilsehood  on  the  most  im- 
portant of  all  subjects,  and  such  a  bitterness  of 
sQom,  a  sort  of  personal  rancour  against  the  Christ- 
iWr  religion  and  its  Divine  .founder,  as  to  betray 
nw>at  clearly  the  cause  in  which  they  are  engaged. 
I  take  the  confession  of  one  of  their  number,  and 
a^k  whether,  in, such  a  temp^, qf ,  mind,  any  reli- 
^qa  question  could  be  soundly  determined.  *I 
have  consulted  t  pw: ,  philosophers,  I  h^y^  perused 
their  books,  I  have  examined  their  several  opinions, 
Ihiive  found  them  all  proud,  positive  and  dogmati- 
cal, even  in  their  pretended  scepticism;  knowing 
every  thing,  proving  nothing,  and  ridiculing   one 

another.' '  If  our  philosophers  were  able  to  discover 

tpjuth,  which  of  them  would  interest  himself  about 
iti  There  is  not  one  of  them,  who  if  he  could  dis- 
tinguish truth  from  falsehood,  would  not  prefer  his 
own  error  to  the  truth  that  is  discovered  by  another. 
Where  is  the  philosopher,  who  for  his  own  glory 
would   not   willingly   deceive   the   whole   human 


f^  SECOND      LECTURE, 

. ;,;  We  are  aware  of  the  show  of  indignant  feeling 
with  which  we  have  been  told,  it  is  not  to  be  en- 
dured that  such  authors  as  Bolingbroke,  Hume,  and 
Gibbon  should  be  charged  with  unfairness  and  dis- 
honesty in  their  writings.  But  we  have  the  facts^ 
f^icts  which  speak  for  themselves,  and  by  every 
righteous  tribunal  they  will  be  pronounced  decisive 
ill  the  case.  It  is  no  pleasant  labor  thus  to  unmask 
opposers.  We  would  prefer  to  leave  their  honesty 
unimpeached,  and  to  meet  them  in  a  fair  trial  upon 
the  strength  of  their  arguments.  They  have  not 
UB  to  blame  if  we  go  farther  back.  They  have 
themselves  invited  it.  They  have  themselves  put 
on  record  the  proofs  of  their  insincerity  and  incon-* 
si^tency.      r/iuf  ,fTni^rhitf)ttrf-i  bn*  '-^--^ 

•vr  We  know  not  indeed  how  far  men  may  go  in 
deceivipg  themselves,  and  thus  at  last  become  less 
dishonest  because  so  blinded  in  their  delusions  as 
tp  have  lost  the  power  to  discriminate  clearly  be- 
iTween  truth  and  error.  A  man  may  so  effectually 
destroy  his  own  power  of  vision  as  to  believe  it  to 
be  dark  night  long  after  the  rising  sun  has  declared' 
it  to  be  clear  day.  Our  Maker  has  made  it  a  fixed 
law  of  our  being  that  we  cannot  persist  in  abusing 


SECOND    LECTURE.  93 

or  perverting  any  of  the  faculties  he  has  given  us 
without  in  the  end  destroying  them.  He  has  assur- 
ed us  that  when  men  receive  not  the  love  of  truth 
that  they  might  be  saved,  for  this  cause  he  sends 
them  strong  delusions,  that  they  should  believe  a 
lie.  "  There  is  a  principle  of  belief  implanted  in 
our  nature  that  seeks  to  avenge  itself  on  the  infidel 
for  the  wrong  done  to  his  own  soul  when  he  turns 
aside  from  reposing  confidence  in  Him  who  is  truth 
itself;  and  we  have  examples  constantly  occuring 
to  show  that  when  a  man  has  rendered  himself 
sceptical  as  to  Divine  Revelation,  he  is  often  left,  as 
a  just  punishment,  to  become  the  dupe  of  the  most 
gross  absurdities.  Indeed  the  most  gross  delusions 
of  unreasoning,  blind  superstition,  have  been  fully 
equalled  by  the  weak  credulity  of  those  who  have 
become  most  deeply  involved  in  the  mazes  of  infi- 
delity. It  was  said  of  the  notorious  Yossius,  who 
dishonored  the  name  of  a  venerable  father  by  his 
licentious  and  hardened  irreligion,  that  he  stood 
ready  to  believe  any  thing  and  every  thing,  except 
that  the  Bible  was  true ;  and  that  his  faith  was 
generally  strong  according  as  the  falsehood   was 

glaringly  absurd,     oiuu;:)  i»v/  iusu  ;; 

6 


5^  SECOND     LECTURE. 

.  This  .discreditable  weakness  of  mind  had  he^ 
come  so  conspicuous  and  general  among  the  scep- 
tics  of  Shaftesbury's  day,  that  notwithstanding  his 
well  known  sympathy  with  them  in  their  ^unbelief, 
he  tells  us  in  his  "  Characteristics,"  "  For  my  owa 
part,  I  have  ever  thought  this  sort  of  m^n,  to  be  in 
general  more  credulous,  though  after  another  man-, 
ner,  than ,  th^  mere  Vulgar.  Besides  w^at  I  have 
observed  in  conversation  with  men  of  this  character, 
I  can  produce  many  anathematized  authors,  who, 
if  they  are  wanting  in  true  Israelitish  faith,  can 
make^i:nend^  by  a  (^tn^^se  or  Indian  one.  If  they 
are.^shor|tf  iilr,Syria,  or  Palestine,  they  have  their 
full  measure  in  America  or  Japan.  Histories  of 
Ilicas. or  Iroquois,  written  by  pirates  and  renegades, 
SjBa-captains  and  trusty  travellers,  pass  for  authen- 
tic records!,  and  are  caoionjcal  with  the  virtuosos  of 
this  sort.  The  Christian  miracles  may  not  so  well, 
satisfy  them;  but  they  dwell  with  the  highest  con- 
tentment^ on  the  prodigies  of  Moorish  and  Pagan 
countries."  . 

Had  Shaftesbury  lived  in  a  later  generation  he 
might  have  confirmed  his  remarks  by  examples  seen 
in  high  places  of  power  where  he  would  scarcely 


SECOllD     LECTUltE. 


have  expected  to  find  them.  'Frederick  of  Prussia 
was  anxious  to  be  known  as  the  great  infidel  of  his 
time.  He  seems  to  have  counted  it  a  greater  hbii- 
or  to  be  the  friend  and  disciple  of  Voltaire  than  to 
be  the  conqueror  of  Austria.  And  yet,  although  he 
could  fill  Europe  with  the  fame  of  his  skill  and^ 
courage  as  a  warrior  ;  while  he  was  scoffing  at  ine^ 
solemn  truths  of  Christianity,  he  was  the  trembling 
dupe  of  judicial  astrology  :  and  the  dread  ot  a  pre- 
diction uttered-  by  a  Saxon  fortune-teller,  to  whom 
life  way  led  by  the  craving  of  his  nature  for  some-* 
thing  to  believe,  so  affected  his  mind  as  often  tii^ 
render  him  utterly  unhappy  and  insufferably  petil^^ 
lant  and  tyrannical:  '  '''  ^''"'''^"'^  ^^  ^^'^''•*^"  ^^^'^ 
But  whatever  such  men  may  have  done  by^pi^?- 
verseness  and  obduracy  of  heart  te  inij)air  their'^ 
powers  of  discriminating  truth  froih  falsehood,  anil 
to  bring  on  themselves  a  judicial  blindness  respect- 
ing the  word  of  God ;  none  of  them  can  plead  that 
they  were  "  born  blind."  The  innate  power  of  con- 
science, which  is  given  by  our  Creator  to  every  in-' 
telligent  being,  cannot  be  subdued  except  as  the 
consequence  of  long  and  repeated  violence ;  and  there 
is  a  self-evidencing  power  in  the  light  of  christian 


*|0  SECOND      LECTURE. 

truth,  like  that  coming  from  the  sun  in  the  heavens, 
which  makes  itself  more  of  Jess  known  even  to 
j,  those  who  would  tufn  away  from  it.     They  may 
shut  up  or  cast  away  the  Bible ;  but  .they  will  feel 
its  influence  ip  .the  .very,  atmosphere  qf  a  christian 
immunity.    Its  memorials  meet  them  in  ^very  r^ 
curring  sabbath,  iu  every  house  of  public  worship, 
^  in  every  institution  which  distinguishes  a  christian 
jj people  from. a,  nation  of  pagans:  and jthe,  moi\itor 
j^^j^dthin  willj  XjpL^ke  a  resppns^  to  these  signs  from 
^jhqaven  tji^t,yipi^et  it  from,  >5fit;ho>it.    ^Hupie  confesses 
j^^nj^^lfning  himself  ^^.^  wp  |lj%ve  vS^en.^tJiat  at  the 
yj^Y  ^^^^  when  he^]^fis,  giving  out  his  J^esspns  of 
jjiafidelity   to   the  jworld,  his   mmost  ^oughts   in 
j),i?ji^,how:s  of  sobriety,  and  reflection,  gave  a  very  dif- 
T^iSef^V^i  testimony., ,  l^Li^c^  ,as  ,h^, mi^hi^  endeavor  ^to 
^,^hut  religion  out  from  his  inind,  there  were  seasp^ns 
l^.^l}^^.  :he  felt  constrained^  to^^tjiin^^  of  ^ 
^j^  tfeink  as  other  people  thought,  of  ^  its  v^lue  to  our 
j.^worl^  of  .^iuj  and  sorrow.     But  these  convictions 
^^^i^i^\to  have  become  more  and  more  faint,,  accord- 
ing a^  they  were  often  resisted,  until  finally  the 
Q^i  deadly  stupor  of  infidelity  gained  supreme  control 

of  the  man  who  had  labored  to  cherish  it.   ,  .  ,   , 

1  ..-^..  .:-,..q.^,v^:j  on  lioiibN 


SECOND      LECTURE.  [0 

'^®'We  liave  no  doubt  there  were  external  circuii- 
stances  in  the  lives  of  such  leading  infidels  ais^iS^e 
^'ave^  named,   which  combined  with   depravity  1)1 
^eart  to  confirin  them  in  their  hostility  to  Ohi^fc- 
''tianity,  perhaps  to  embitter  it.    There  were  events 
"m^he  life  of  Hume,  which  may  have  had  this  sinis- 
''ler  influence 'oii' his  mind.    Surprising  as  it  must 
appear,  aftei*' 11'^  ~ had  betrayed  his  infidelity,  aild 
wWen'he  had  so  degraded  his  own  sense  blF' right 
and  wrong  as  ti)  write  essays  vindicating  suicide  and 
*  omer^enofmities,  lie  iWice  offered  himself  as'^  c4n- 
'^didaie  for  the  Chair  of  Moral  Philosophy.    His  first 
'  applicaiioh  was  for  the  professorship  in  the  UniVfer- 
'  siiy  of  Edinburgh ;  and  when  he  had  been  t^dctfed 
by  that  venerable  seat  of  learning,  tii  if  determined 
to  brave  public  sentiment,  he  afterwards  applied  lor 
the  same  appointment  in  the  University  of  Glasgow 
The  community  were  amazed  at  his  hardihood  and 
presumption  in  supposing  that  an  avowed  Unbe- 
liever  in    Christianity  could   be   chosen   to   teach 
morals  to  the  youth  of  a  christian  nation.   He  com- 
plained that  he  was  treated  with  injustice,  inas- 
much as  he  had  published  volume  after  volume  to 
which  no  exception  could  be  taken,  and  that  even 


lu 


t^S  SgepN-P      LECTURE. 

ijEfiivfew  pages  of  reprehensible  matter  had  escaped 
him,  it  was  unreasonable  to  condemn  hithoriWj- 
Gount  of  so  small  a  part  of  what  he  had  writtehi'  0W 
one  occasion  when  he  was  thii^  pleading  his'o^i 
oause^  one  of  the  company  replied  to  him  ''  Sir,  yo^ 
ptit  me  in  miind  of  a  Notary  Public  who  having 
been  condemned  to  be  hung  for  forgery,  lamented 
the  hardshipi'of 'ihi^  tifetse  ;''th^t  'afli^i' hMiAg* 'writti^ri 
jtiany  thousand  Uticiffensite  sheets','  he'  should  1i^ 
Ranged  for  oiie 'Miibl'>''  ^  Happily  fdt^  tk  6&fet!'  iA 
truth  and  of  iiiotkls,  th^  appointiii'ent  Was  iii  iJiW 
hands  of  those  who  could  not  be  persuaded  to  cott- 
sider  either  forgery  or  blasphemy  against  God  aiid' 
BLis'  holy  \Vord  as  matters  of  small  moment ;  and^ 
Hume  was  shut  out'  ft6m  a  place  which  he  so  per- 
tinaciously coveted,  but  so  little  deserved.  As  might 
be  expected,  the  clergy,  in  discharge  of  their  duty," 
were  both  earnest  and=  indignant  in  resisting  his ' 
applications  ;  and  it  Is  not  surprising  that  a  man  oY'* 
Hume's  temperament  should  wish  to  visit  on  relf-  ^ 
gion  itself,  the  resentment  which  he  was  not  sldllis^ 
to  avow  against  its  ministers  and  advocates.  '^'^  ^ 
odit  may  well  be  supposed  too  that  the  minds  of'' 
both  Hume  ?ind  Gibbon,  especially  the  latter,  be- 


SECOND    LECTURE.  99 

^ame  more  and  more  estranged  from  Christianity  by 
their  intercourse  with  the  leading  savansof  Francei 
JjpL  their  days  France  W£^^  one  vast  hot  bod  of  impi- 
^;ty  and  infidelityj,  of  sparkling  intellect  and  profli- 
gate manners.    It  set  tho.  fashion  not  only  in  the 
>y9^1d  of  gaiety,  but  in  the  world  of  philosophy.  Sq 
alluring  did  Hume  find  his  position  when  he  was  inl 
]^£f^is,  ^h^fii  Miht^fi  1^  tstrong  inclination]  to^make  M 
t^is  l^(^|ncj;  for  life,  notwitli&tanding  hia  attachment 
iff^  ^^  fti)G^ds  ia  Scptljji^^f  1  Gibbon's  Jove,  of  France* 
J^p^^t(^(jl  ,to,  .sj^h,  t|.;,p(iswon>ithat   he  Ipreferred; 
wff^i^x^g  ^U^ifhe  l?ren<?h  H^i^guo^e  rather  thaU)  iaikiai 
(Xfffi.  ^^^\s  fi^cji^Q^^i^W  he  in«t  with).¥oitait«^ 
^ft?rT"[  lYw&i'i^^W  i  iVidi )  t^^t^m•  j"  jarid  to  limkhy  iil 
rl^pr^QU^j  li^ngtt^  (}i4,^ei/jft]ri;yi  b^sd^gire. to. appear! 
ajbiboin^  in  eyiefytbin^i which  >^a&  Fren<^l^,lthat  liisJ 
friend  M?Ti^.  P^I(^|E^^d,  remarked,  ^heiw^jsipi'tend 
op.  the  point  of  saying  to  hini,  "Don't  givq  yotirseifc/ 
so  much  trouble;  you  deserve  the  honor  of  being: .i^b 
Fi;enchman,",  ^f,  ^^s  a  melancholy  proof  that  a  na-li 
tioii  has  reached  the  last  stage  of  moral  delinqueih  o 
cy,  and  the  contagion  becomes .  doubly  dangerouSj.>j 
-vs^hen  the  poison  of  impiety  strikes  as  deep  into  the 
mi^ds  of  women  as  of  mein.j,,>Jit  was  remarkably  sotj 


I^  SECOND      LECTURE. 

Tat  this  time  in  the  French  nation  ;  and  no  one  can 
peruse  the  biographies  of  Hume  and  Gibbon  with- 
out perceiving  that  whenever  they  came  out  from 
the  licentious  and  brilliant  salons  of  Paris,  they 
-had  fallen  from  bad  to  worse.  '  vdiTjft 

; '■:  iBut  among  the  external  causes  of  the  wide- 
spread infidelity  which  showed  itself  not  only  in 
Hume  and  Gribbon,  but  also  in  many  of  their  eb- 
temporaries,  we  must  not  fail  to  mention  the  low 
state  of  religion  which  then  prevailed  to  a  lament- 
able extent.  It  is  a  truth  which  cannot  be  too  often 
repeated  or  too  solemnly  urged,  that  the  strength  of 
Christianity  to  "  still  the  enemy  and  the  avenger," 
and  "put  to  silence  the  lying  lips,"  is  never  so  irre- 
fiistible  as  when  displayed  in  the  purity  and  filial 
devotedness  of  Christians.  When  the  church  "looks 
forth  as  the  morning,  fair  as  the  moon,  clear  as  the 
^h^"/«hei  •  is  also  "  terrible  as  an  army  with  ban- 
aier»j;'n!and  goes  forward,  like  her  Lord,  conquering 
and  to  conquer.  If  all  is  well  within,  she  has 
nothing  to  fear  from  without,  "though  an  host 
should  encamp  against  her."  But  widely  different 
hvas  her  condition  at  the  time  of  which  we  speak. 
[With  the  exception  of  a  comparatively  few  redeem- 


SECOND      LECTURE.  OU^l 

ling  points,  the  picture  was  gloomy  and  forbiddihg 
-throughout  the  wide  territory  which  had  once  own- 
leA  the  sway  of  Christianity,  and  still  claimed  i  to 
l>uss  under  her  name,    in  some  lands  she  was  dis- 
figured by  superstitions  that  brought  her  worship  iii- 
to  close  athnity  with  the  corrupt  rites  of  Paganism; 
(lind 'in  others  she  was  enervated  and  depiessed Hol- 
der the  weight  of  cold  indifference  or  proud  tM- 
vjuieaning  fornuilisra.  She  had  not  yet  felt  the  inftii- 
euce  of  the  burning  and  shining  lights  which  hate 
isince  arisen  to  restore  her  to  herself,  and  wake  h«r 
mp  to  the  duty  not  only  of  tepairing  her  own  deso- 
lations, but  of  making  the  aggressive  inroads  on;  iEb 
kingdom  of  darkness  which  are  both  the  indeixiaf 
iher  strength  and  the  sure  iheahs  of  increasing  it 
^^'.While  men  slept"  in  this  deep  slumber,  the  tarAs 
(of  impiety  and  infidelity  were  sown  broadcast,  es- 
pecially  throughout  the  nations  of  the  Old  Wqrld ; 
;»nd  we  must  lament  that  among  those  whom  we 
find  sleeping  at  their  posts,  are  men  who  were  dis- 
tinguished for  their  official  station  and  extensive  in- 
fluence ;  and  yet,  when  weighed  in  the  balances  are 
found  greatly  wanting  in  the  spirit  of  firmness  and 
decision  with  which  they  ought  to  have  rebuked 


102  SECOND     LECTURE. 

the  open  enemies  of  the  faith  they  were  appointed 
to  defend  and  vindicate. 

But  in  whatever  degree  external  circumstances 
or  the  state  of  the  times  may  have  influenced  the 
ultimate  views  of  infidels,  it  is  too  plain  to  be  qilefs- 
tioned,  that  their  infidelity  had  its  origin  and  its 
chief  aliment  in  an  "evil  heart  of  unbelief  The 
Bible  which  they  assailed  explains  their  case  a;rid 
unfolds  their  motives,  when  it  tells  us  "they  loved 
darkness  rather  than  light,  because  their  deeds  Wre 
evil;"  "having  their  understanding  darkened,  be- 
cause of  the  hardness  of  their  heart,  they  becamef  vain 
in  their  imaginations  ;"  "professing  themselves  to  be 
wise,  they  became  fools."  And  from  the  language 
which  the  Apostle  here  uses,  describing  their  ambi- 
tious desires  to  be  noted  for  superior  wisdom,  we  ate 
reminded,  that,  if  among  the  unworthy  motives 
which  excited  their  hostility  to  religion  there  is  one 
which  seems  to  have  obtained  the  greatest  ascen- 
dancy, it  is  that  prurient  ambition  for  distinction  in 
knowledge  which  was  man's  first  sin  against  his 
Maker,  and  is  frequently  the  last  which  will  yield 
f»to-the  power  of  the  Gospel.  Like  Simon  the  Magi- 
cian, the  first  of  their  race  on  record  in  modern  his- 


SECOND      LECTURE.  103 

tory,  "giving  out  that  himself  was  some  great  one," 
they  were  captivated  with  a  desire  of  exhibiting 

j.„tliemselves  as  great;  great  in  the  enlargement  of 
their  views,  the  fearlessness  of  their  inquiries  and 
the  extent  of  discoveries  which  they  hoped  would 

,  )9verturn  the  received  belief  of  former  days. 

.J, I)    Tliis  dangerous  ambition  is  peculiarly  the  be- 

;. setting  sin  of  active  minds  in  early  life.   Happy  for 

j  those  who,  in  the  formation  of  first  opinions  on  great 
subjects,  are  under  the  influence  of  guardians  and 
instructors  whose  sober  and  experienced  judgment 

i  mo-y  aivail  to  chasten  these  ardent  aspirings,  and 
implant  in  the  heart  that  humility  and  becoming 
self-distrust  which  are  the  beginning  of  true  wisdom. 
Had  a  wise  and  timely  control,  by  some  parental 

^  hand,  been  exercised  over  the  minds  of  Hume  and 
Gibbon,  how  different  might  have  been  their  course 
and  their  influence  in  the  world!  But  unhappily 
they  were  left  to  themselves  at  the  period  of  life 

.when  the  self-sufficiency,  of  which  we  speak,  was 
uaichecked ;  and  they  fell  easy  victims  to  the  temp- 

j.tation  of  thinking  more  highly  of  themselves  than 
they  ought  to  think.  Hume,  while  in  childhood, 
lost  his  father,  and  seems  to  have  met  with  no  one 


«04  SECOND      LEC^^^jEi^lJg 

who  cautioned  him  against  the  ?^bsorbing  desire  to 
be  known  as  a  "  discoverer  in  philosophy^'*  which, 
^  rhk.  friends  admit,  controled  his  ta^stes  |ai^4  ]?y^]^: 
ifeuits  before  he  had  arrived  at  the  age  of  manhood. 
Gibbon's  father  lived  to  see  his  sQn  growing  up  to 
matured  years ;  and  yet,  owing  to  various  causes,  he 
left  the  care  of  the  boy  to  instructors  who  usually 
left  him  to  take  care  of  himself ;  the  consequence 
was  that  to  mind  ran  wild,  and,, th^.  ambition  tp 
master  abstract  questio^s  became,,  la,  passion  with 
the  lad.  It  isi  j^elanchqiy,  tp  ^ee  ;hipx,  wjien  yet  in 
the  greenness  of  his  youth,  grappling  with  subjects 
beyond  his i strength;  an^Jiis  imipd  becoming  l^eut 
and  distorted  under  burdens  fifoin  whidi  no  kind 
and  faithful  hand  came  to  relieve  him,  while  jop 
friendly  A^oice  was  raised  to  rebuke  the  presumption 
iwhioh  so  overtasked  his  faculties.  Speaking  of  his 
residence  at  Oxford  as  a  student  in  Magdalen  Qpl- 
lege,  and  of  the  entire  neglect  with  which  he  was 
treated  by  the  Professors,  he  tells  us  in  his  Me- 
moirs, "From  my  childhood  I  had  been  fond  of 
religious  disputation;  nor  had  the  elastic  spring 
been  totally  broken  by  the  weight  of  the  atmos- 
phere of  Oxford.    The  blind  activity  of  idleness 


SECOND      LECTURJJv''^'  ^^ 

firged  me  to  advance  without  armour  into  the  dan- 
gerous mazes  of  controversy ;  and  at   the   age   of 
sixteen  I  bewildered  myself  in  the  errors  of  the 
(!]!hurch  of  Rome."    In  this  way  his  mind  wearied 
ftself  into  confinned  disease,  and  arrogantly  con-i 
ceiting   that   no   one   ought   to   believe   what   he 
ifeoiild  not  comprehend,   he  threw  aside  one  set  6f 
'opinions  after  another,  till  he  became  self-school- 
^4(i 'iiilki  a  Scepticism  that  grew  with  his  growth, 
^ill' hie  i'ose  to  be  one  of  th^  most  dangerous  foes 
^vi^hich  Christianity  has  ever  encountered.     *"^^  ^>rf^ 
^^^Tt^dm  'jktfch' It  neglected  soil  have  sprung  up,  ifi 
difierent'  age$  of  the  wbrld,  riiahy   of  A^hat   Siir 
Tht)riiais  terown  calls  "the  sturdy  doubts  and  bois- 
*ferous  objections  whereWith  the  unha'ppiness  6{  our 
'knowledge  too  nearly  leicqitainteth  us,  and  which 
^are  to  be  encountered,  not  in  a  martial  posture,  but 
bn  oilr  knees:"    "Keep  back  thy  servant  from  pre- 
^siitnptuous  sin,"  is  the  prayer  of  the  man  after  God's 
'own  heart ;  and  we  can  scarcely  conceive  of  any  sin 
'more  presumptuous  or  offensive  than  the  spirit  of 
^pride  and  self-sufficiency  with  which  men  have  too 
often  professed  to  inquire  into  the  truth  of  Grod's 
^^ifttrlii '  The  challenge  is  addressed  to  all  created  in- 


10'6  SECOND    LECTURE. 

telligences,  however  high,  whether  of  man  oi:^  df '^ 
angel,  *'Can'st  thou ^ by' searching  find  otit  God? 
can'st  thou  find  out  the*  Almighty  uhtb  perfection? 
It  is  high  as  heaven;  what  can'st  thou  do?  deepei^''^ 
than  hell ;  what  can'st  thou  know  ?"  As  a  fit  r^spdni^d '' 
to  the  overwhelming  inquiry,  we  may  well  exclaiini'' 
with  Paul,  "Oh  the  depth  of  the  riches  both  of  th^*'' 
wisdom  and  knowledge  of  God!  How  unsearchable  ' 
are  his  judgments,  and  his  ways  past  finding  out! 
For  who  hath  known  the  mind  of  the  Lord?    Or 
who  hath  been  his  counsellor?    Or  who  hath  first 
given  to  him,  and  it  shall  be  recompensed  unto  him 
again?    For  of  him,  and  through  him,  and  to  him  ' 
are  all  things:  to  whom  be  glory  forever.  Amen."  " 
No  man  can  be  suitably  prepared  for  learning  the 
Divine  Will,  or  inquiring  into  it,  till  he  imbibes  the 
feeling   portrayed   in    the  solemn  and   impressive 
words  of  our  Lord,  "Verily,  I  say  unto  you,  whoso-  ' 
ever  shall  not  receive  the  kingdom  of  God  as  a  lit- 
tie  child,  shall  in  no Svise  enter  therein."   "The  se- 
cret of  the  Lord,"  says  the  Psalmist  "is  with  them 
that  fear  him,  and  he  will  show  them  his  covenant. 
The  meek  will  he  guide  in  judgment,  and  the  meek 
will  he  teach  his  way."    And  as  this  meekness,  this 


SECOND      LECTyi^E.  lO^ft  I 

childlike  docility  is  the  spirit  befitting  even  the 
greatest  and  the  wisest  of  ni^„  when  they  would 
be  made  wise  unto  salvation;  never  does  human 
greatness  appear  so  ripe  and  attractive,  as  when  we 
find  it  seated  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  confessing  its  own 
weakness  and  ignorance,  and  asking  help  and  wis- 
dojn  from  Him  who  is  tlie  Light  of  the  world.  Few 
men  have  exercised  so  powerful  a  sway  among  the 
learned  around  him  as  Dr,  Saauuel  Johnson.  But 
notwithstanding  the  high  renewal  which  he  gained 
for  eminence  in  literature,  he  seems  to  have  his 
highest  clajujitQ  oujr  admiration,  when  we  hear 
him  offering  tliis  prayer  to  God,  in  wliicll  we  should 
all  desire  to  join: 

"0  Lord,  my  Maker  and  Protector,  who  hast 
graciously  sent  me  into  this  world  tO  work  out  my 
sal  vation  witj;  feaif  and  trembling,  enable  me  to 
di:^ye  from  me  all  such  inquiet  and  perplexing 
thoughts  as  may  mislead  or  hinder  me  in  the  prac- 
tice of  those  duties  which  thou  hast  required. 
When  I  behold  the  works  of  thy  hands,  give  me 
grace  always  to  remember  that  thy  thouglits  are 
npt  my  thoughts,  nor  thy  w^ays  my  ways.  And 
while  it  shall  please  thee  to  continue  me  in  this  , 


108  SECOND     LECTURE. 

world,  where  much  is  to  be  done,  and  little  to  be 
known,  teach  me,  by  thy  Holy  Spirit,  to  withdraw 
my  mind  from  unprofitable  and  dangerous  inqui- 
ries; from  difficulties  vainly  curious ;  and  doubts  im- 
possible to  be  solved.  Let  me  rejoice  in  the  light 
which  thou  hast  imparted :  let  me  serve  thee  with 
active  zeal  and  humble  confidence;  and  wait  with 
patient  expectation  for  the  time  in  which  the  soul 
which  thou  receivest,  shall  be  satisfied  with  know- 
ledge. Grant  this,  0  Lord,  foi  Jesus  Christ's  sake. 
Amen." 


mum  m^^^M. 

Learned  Men  who  have  embraced  Christianity. 


Matthew,  ii.  1,  2. 


"  There  came  wise  men  from  the  East ;  sayings 
Where  is  he  that  is  born  King  of  the  Jews  ?  for  we 
have  seen  his  star  in  the  East  and  are  come  to 
worship  him^ 

It  is  a  beautiful  idea  of  the  Ancients,  that  the 
most  venomous  serpents  which  infest  our  earth  are 
to  be  found  only  in  those  regions  which  abound 
with  the  most  sovereign  antidotes  to  their  poison. 
Whether  this  be  true  or  untrue  in  the  world  of  na- 
ture, it  is  a  principle  which  prevades  the  moral 
creation.  Evil  always  has  its  limits.  It  never  can 
become  either  perpetual  or  unrestrained.  It  some- 
times comes  to  an  end  from  having  in  itself  the 
elements  of  self-combustion ;  and  is  destroyed  by  a 
process  resulting  from  its  own  nature.     At  other 

times,  by  its  encroachments  on  every  thing  high 

7 


,       110  '  THIKD      LECTURE. 

and  holy,  it  awakens  a  resistance  which  overpowers 
^  and  crushes  it  by  the  hands  of  those  whom  it  had 
aimed  to  destroy.  To  both  these  causes  it  is  per- 
haps owing,  that  the  triumphs  of  infidelity  have 
always  been  short,  and  that  in  the  end  it  has  met 
with  overthrows  so  complete  and  decisive.  ,,  But 
friends  of  the  truth  who  are  faithful  to  every  trust, 
will  not  allow  error  to  live  until  it  may  die  out  of 
its  own  accord,  or  perish  by  the  laws  of  its  own 
nature.  However  short  may  be  its  life,  the  evil  fruit 
which  would  spring  from  it,  might  last  forever; 
and  accordingly,  as  you  will  see  from  what  we  are 
now  to  set  before  you,  wherever  infidelity  has  sown 
its  seeds;  like  the  fabled  teeth  of  the  dragon,  they 
have  started  up  into  armed  men;  men  who  could  not 
be  impelled  to  turn  their  weapons  against  each  other, 
but  men  armed  in  the  panoply  of  truth,  to  make 
war  in  its  defence  and  for  its  wider  dominion. 

"We  cannot  be  said,  in  our  former  Lecture  on  the 
subject,  to  have  done  injustice  to  infidelity  by  an 
unfair  exhibition  of  the  force  it  can  array  in  its  de- 

,  fence.    We  have  not  raked  up  from  the  kennel  the 
low  and  debased  who  are  found  on  its  side:   nor 

,-liave  we  called  forth  from  the  dens  of  pollution,  the 


THIRD      LECTURE.  "**lll 

-*^ 'gcurrilous,  noisy  and  reckless  revilers  of  Chris- 
tianity, who  station  themselves  under  the  infidel 
banner.  "We  have  passed  by  this  motley  and  loath- 
some host  in  silence.  We  have  presented  to  view 
only  the  chosen  and  acknowledged  leaders  of  in- 
fidelity, its  ablest  and  most  distinguished  advo- 
cates ;  and  in  our  view  of  their  learning  and  their 
lives,  their  scepticism  and  its  causes,  we  have  aimed 
to  give  them  full  credit  for  whatever  they  may 
claim,  either  in  learning  or  in  character.  But  hav- 
ing thus  surveyed  the  strength  of  those  who  have 
set  themselves  against  us,  let  us  now  turn  to  the 
ranks  of  the  learned,  who  appear  under  a  different 
banner  and  animated  by  a  different  spirit.  Their 
banner  is  the  cross,  with  its  motto — "  In  hoc  vin- 
ces  ;'*  and  their  spirit,  love  to  the  truth  and  to  Him 
who  has  revealed  it  for  the  salvation  of  a  lost  world. 
Let  me  here  observe,  that  in  the  array  of  names 

"which  I  am  about  to  set  before  you,  for  the  sake  of 
argument,  I  will  not  take  into  the  account*  any  of 
those  who  have  been  known  as  ministers  of  the 
Gospel,  however  they  may  have  been  distinguished 
for  their  scholarship  and  learning.  And  yet  let  mo 
not  be  understood  to  admit,  that  as  a  body  the 


^:|12  THIBD      LECTURE. 

clergy  are  to  be  held  of  small  moment  to  the  cause 

of  letters  and  science.     I  cannot  be  accused  of  un- 

i  due  partiality  for  my  own  profession,  when  I  claim, 

that  if  the  learning  of  the  clergy  were  to  be  swept 

away  from  the  mass  of  human  knowledge,  it  would 

.leave  a  chasm,  "a  great  gulf  that  could  not  be 

passed  over  "  for  generations  to  come.    Even  in  that 

age  of  the  world,  when  as  a  Profession,  they  were 

•  far  from  being  what  they  ought  to  have  been,  they 

,werQ  the  chief,  if  not  the  sole  preservers  of  letters. 

t-'j^The  Dark  Ages"  but  too  well  deserve  the  name. 

..But  though  they  were  dark,  they  were  not  without 

.^gleams  of  light.     The  darkness  was  not  Egyptian, 

r.  0.1  blackness  that  was  total  and  unrelieved.     There 

were  stars,  if  nothing  more,  in  the  expanse  above  us. 

fA^^d  it  was  the  clergy,  as  is  held  in  remembrance 

-  by  their  very  name,  who  kept  the  light  of  know- 

;.  Ipdge  from  utter  extinction  in  that  dreary  night  of 

:  intellect.  iiivio  eao  \iuo  "ii^iiiiiexii  v  .w 

Nor  are  we  indebted  to  them  only  for  the  indus- 
.  tiy  with  which  they  preserved  the  materials  of  classi- 
cal learning,  both  Greek  and  K,oman.    Physical  sci- 
1  >eace  has  always  been  largely  a  debtor  to  their  labors. 
%  Six   hundred   years  ago,  or  about  the  middle  ol 


THIRD      LEG^tilE.  ' '^lIS 

the  thirteenth  century,  Roger  Bacon  gave  to  the 
world  his  work,  which  obtained  for  him  the  title  of 
«^"the  Wonderful  Doctor,"  in  which  we  find  the  firM 
"^^lovements    towards   several   of   those   discoveries 
^Which  have  since  revolutionized  the  face  of  the 
'^iiivilized  world.   Long  before  gunpowder  was  knoWn 
^ih  the  art  of  war,  he  foretold  "  a  substance  may  be 
'prepared  which  even  in  very  small  quantities  will 
^jf^iroduce  a  loud  report  in  the  air,  kindle  like  a  train 
W  fire,  and  be  able  to  destroy  whole  castles  and  ar- 
mies."  He  was  the  first  to  teach  that  "  we  may  cut 
^%  shape  glasses  so  that  some  of  them  will  enlar^^ 
objects,  or  bring  them  nearer,  and  others  will  di^ 
'^'ttrinish  or  remove  them  farther;  some  will  make 
them  appear  upside  down,  others  right  them  again." 
Here  you  find  the  germ  of  the  telescope  and  micro- 
scope, which  have  immeasurably  enlarged  the  limits 
of  knowledge  both  in  the  terrestrial  and  celestial 
worlds.     To  mention  only  one  other  suggestion  of 
his  busy  and  prolific  mind.    "  It  is  possible,"  he  de- 
clared, "  to  build  ships  that  might  be  managed  by 
one  man,  and  surpass  in  swiftness  all  ordinary  ves- 
sels, even  if  full  of  rowers.     Moreover,  a  kind  oi 
carriage  may  be  constructed,  which  without  being 


AA-4  THIRD    LECTURE. 

drawn  by  horses  could  go  over  an  incredible  space."  ^^ 
The  steamers  and  tae  locomotives,  which  are  the""' 
boasted  inventions  of  our  day,  are,  as  you  here  see','^'^^ 
only  the  realization  of  Roger  Bacon's  original  con-    '* 
ceptions,   the   fulfilment   of    his   bold   predictions. 
Owing  to  the  darkness  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived, '  '^*^ 
this  far-sighted  philosopher,  whose  diligent  studied  ^''^ 
and  skilful  experiments  led  him  to  discover  that 
such  powers  lay  hidden  in  the  bosom  of  nature, 
barely  escaped  being  put  to  death  as  a  magician. 
But  notwithstanding  the  suspicions  and   reproach 
which  he  had  to  encounter;  he  brought  to  light 
what  may  be  viewed  as  the  first  chapter  in  that 
long  list  of  scientific  discoveries  which  have  ever 
since  been  in  progress,  and  are.  yet  to  be  carried  on 
until  every  power  of  nature  shall  be  subdued  to  the 
services  and  comfort  of  man.    And  yet,  though  per- 
secuted by  his  mistaken  and  narrow  minded  breth- 
ren, he  still  avowed  himself  to  be  one  of  the  clergy, 
and  that  he  wished  to  be  always  known  and  num- 
bered  as  belonging  to  the  sacred  profession.     Nor 
should  I  fail,  in  this  connection,  to  mention  at  least 
one  more  example  in  the  history  of  truth  and  know- 
ledge, w^here  we  find  the  clergy  taking  the  lead. 


THIRD      LECTURE.  lib 

It  was  mainly  to  such  men  as  Luther  and  Calvin, 
and  Knox  and  Cranmer,  that  we  are  indebted  for 
that  emancipation  of  mind,  known  emphatically  as 
the  Reformation,  and  which  at  the  close  of  the 
"Dark  Ages"  led  to  new  and  enlarged  views  not 
only  in  religion,  but  in  philosophy,  and  in  all  the 
civil  and  social  rights  which  exist  between  man 
and.  man. 

But  much  as  the  clergy  have  done  lor  the  exten- 
sion of  knowledge  in  every  department  of  learning, 
and  many  as  are  the  examples  we  might  cite  from 
them  who  have  stood  high  in  letters  as  well  as  in 
religion ;  we  will  forego  at  present  all  allusion  to 
them,  when  we  speak  of  distinguished  scholars  who 
have  been  intelligent  believers  in  Christianity.  Jt 
shall  not  be  said  that  we  derive  our  testimony  from 
men  who  are  influenced  by  the  spirit  either  of  their 
caste  or  their  craft,  as  the  official  defenders  of  Reve- 
lation. We  confine  ourselves  to  the  laity ;  and 
even  then,  the  difficulty  lies  in  determining  whom 
to  select  out  of  so  great  a  number  of  illustrious 
witnesses. 

As  a  prelude  to  the  high  names  which  1  am 
about  to  recite,  I  should  perhaps  refer  to  some  of 


U6  THIRD      LECTURE. 

the  most  distinguished  sages  of  antiquity,  who  have 
expressed  in  strong  and  pathetic  language  not  only 
their  longing  desire  to  know  what  the  gospel  teach- 
es, but  also  their  full  conviction  that  such  know- 
ledge  could  he  revealed  to  man  only  by  his  Makeil 
and  Preserver.  *'  Athenians,"  said  Socrates,  "  yoti' 
must  wait  till  a  personage  appear,  to  teach  you  how 
you  ought  to  conduct  yourselves  towards  God  and 
towards  man."  "  When,"  he  adds  "  0,  when  shall 
that  period  arrive  ;"  and  when  asked  by  Alcibiades, 
'*  Who  is  he  that  shall  thus  instruct  mankind?"  So- 
crates  replied,  "  It  is  he  who  now  takes  care  of  you 
and  is  concerned  for  you."    xioiitv/  ^uiuiJiuv     c;Ajoi: 

"  I  have  entered  the  world  in  sin,"  said  the  far- 
famed  Aristotle,  "  I  have  lived  in  ignorance,  I  die 
in  perturbation.    Cause  of  causes  pity  me  !"i>:oni-i>f5b 

In  such  affecting  language  did  these  venerable 
sages,  the  philosophers  and  leading  minds  of  their 
day,  confess  and  lament  their  ignorance  of  what 
they  were  anxious  to  know  as  moral  and  immortal 
beings.  Such  were  their  heart-felt  longings  for  a  re- 
velation of  grace  and  truth  from  God,  which  should 
guide  them  in  duty  while  they  lived,  and  give  them 
a  sure  and  steadfast  hope  for  eternity  when  they 


THIRD      LECTURE.  Wl 

died.  They  had  pursued  their  diligent  inquiries 
tkr  as  unaided  reason  could  carry  them,  but  in  the 
end,  they  ^'  could  rather  feel  after  God  than  find 
liim;"  and  the  more  they  knew  concerning'  Hina 
from  his  works,  the  more  sensibly  did  they  realize 
their  need  of  that  knowledge  which  they  felt  could 
be  learned  only  from  his  word.  They  lonpfed  for 
the  Bible,  and  to  know  what  the  Bible  reveals;  aiul 
could  such  men  as  Socrates  now  speak  from  their 
graves,  how  would  they  put  the  hardened  infidet 
to  the  blush,  as  they  would  rebuke  his  impiety 
and  blasphemy  in  turning  his  back  on  this  pro* 
cious  volume,  which  they  would  have  given 
worlds  to  possess,  n  jjnov/  oaj  Jjo:jixioova;u 
o.  .But  leaving  behind  lis  lands  covereS  with,  the 
darkness  of  paganism,  let  us  turn  to  nations  which 
have  been  visited  with  the  day-spring  from  on  high. 
Let  us  look  at  some  of  the  luminaries  in  letters  and 
science,  who  have  enjoyed  the  light  of  the  Gospel, 
and  see  how  they  regarded  it.  uoixitu 
.->  f  The  text  reminds  us  that  when  the  Saviour  was 
a  new  born  babe  and  cradled  in  a  manger,  "  Wise 
men  from  the  East," — men  devoted  to  the  philosophy 
then  prevailing,  honored  and  owned  Him  as  the 


118  THIKD     LECTURE. 

Desire  of  nations  and  the  Saviour  of  a  lost  worldl^ 
As  we  proceed,  you  will  find  that  the  star  which  ai  ' 
the  dawn  of  the  Christian  era  thus  led  men  of  learn- 
ing to  the  feet  of  the  Redeemer,  has  not  yet  disap- 
peared, or  failed  to  fulfil  its  high  office ;  and  as  the 
space  to  which  I  confine  myself  will  not  allow 
me  to  enumerate  the  names  of  illustrious  scholars 
who  followed  its  guidance  in  the  earlier  ages  of 

Christianity,  let  us  at  once  cpme  down  to  times 

>v/;fl  ?.bnini  hoii'fjloq 
more  modern  and  more  familiar. 

I  will  begin  with  Poetry ;  and  the  Muse  I  will 

■'»J   *lo 
here  present  to  your  view,  is 


"  No  reelins  Goddess  with  a  zoneless  waist.*' 


We  leave  the  inspiration  derived  from  so  fecu- 
lent a  source  to  those  who,  in  their  ribald  verse, 
have  dishonored  the  Muse  by  the  impieties  to  which 
they  have  degraded  her.  We  read  from  a  roll  con- 
taining only  the  names  of  those  who  have  sung  in 
strains  which  have  been  equally  an  honor  to  poetry 
and  to  themselves.  Has  infidelity  its  Spenser,  its 
Tasso,  its  Watts,  its  Young,  its  Cowper,  its  Scott ; 
or  more  than  all,  its  Milton,  the  Prince  of  Poets,  who 


THIRD     LECTURE.  110 

accounted  it  the  highest  privilege  of  his  Muse,  that 
she  came  from 

"  Zion's  hill — or  Siloah's  brook,  that  flow'd  fast  by  the  oracle  of  God." 

9ift  au  b 
Or  has  the  cold  creed  ever  awakened  in  the  science 

of  music,  so  nearly  allied  to  poetry,  masters  who 

have  created  the  rich  and  majestic  melody  of  Hari-  /^ 

del.  Hay  den,  Mozart  ?    Or  if  we  pass  to  men  whose 

polished  minds  have  added  to  the  graces  of  poetry, 

the  sweetest  specimens  of  prose  in  the  whole  range 

of  belles-lettres ;  has   infidelity  ever  produced   its    , 

Addisons,  its  Beatties,  its  Goldsmiths  ?     Or  has  it  i 

in  general  literature,  a  man  to  place  side  by  side 

with  Samuel  Johnson  ? 

If  we  come  to  the  arts ;  has  infidelity  its  Chris- 
topher Wren  in  architecture ;  its  Raphael,  Rey- 
nolds, or  West,  or  Ashton  in  painting ;  its  Angelo, 
Cauova,  or  Thorvaldsen  in  sculpture? 

If  we  pass  into  the  regions  of  political  science 
or  political  rule,  has  infidelity  statesmen,  who  in 
sound  views  and  wise  measures  for  the  welfare  of 
nations,  can  equal  Grotius,  Selden,  Montesquieu, 
Raleighj  Burke,  Pitt;  or  a  man,  we  should  still 


^^^  or  rn 


'us IV EL  :tyJ 


120  THIRD    LECTURE. 

ii^iore  revere,  Washington,  to  whom  I  may  now  add 
Clay  and  Wehster  ?  .  j^^^^^  ^  .^^^  ^^^^ 

In  the  noble  profession  of  Law,  cs^n  she  furnisjt^ 
^  ii^s  with  a  Blackstone,  a  Hale,  a  Somers,  a  Manst 
field,  a  Marshall,  a  Story,  a  Kent  ? 

Nor  would  I  pass  by  the  Medical  Profession,  in 
which  is  centred  the  knowledge  so  important  to  life 
and  health.  Much  as  infidels  have  claimed  from 
some  distinguished  members  of  the  healing  a.rt, 
where  are  their  men  who  can  take  rank  with  Har- 
y  vey,  Sydenham,  Boerhaave,  Gregory,  Goode,  Coogej[ 
and  Rush?  — :-,v 

But  to  philosophy  properly  so  called,  they  would 
perhaps  wish  to  lead  us.  And  so  be  it.  We  are 
ready  to  follow  them  to  any  region  of  learning  or 
knowledge.  We  will  go  back  then  to  the  age  when 
the  father  of  sound  philosophy  gave  the  first  great 
impulse  to  the  human  mind,  that  has  done  so  much 
to  free  it  from  the  bondage  of  former  generations. 
Has  infidelity  a  name  among  his  contemporaries, 
to  compare  with  Lord  Bacon  ?  Or  has  it  among  the 
philosophers  of  that  century,  those  whom  it  caii 
v/  rank  with  Newton,  Boyle,  Locke  or  Leibnitz?  .,Qr 
in  later  days,  has  it  men  who  in  ripe  scholarship 


THIRD      LECTURE.  121 

arid  deep  researches  can  equal  Sir  W.  Jones,  Du- 
gald  Stewart,  Davy,  Herschel,  Cnvier,  and  others  of 
^tial' distinction  both  at  home  and  abroad,  who 
dVe  4tiH  living,  and  whom  for  that  reason,  delicacy 
forbids  me  to  mention  ? 

^^  1  might  extend  this  list  until  I  had  rendered 
tne  catalogue  wearisome  to  your  patience.  But  I 
Would  not  confine  myself  to  a  mere  enumeration  of 
names,  however  great.  I  would  better  deserve  your 
attention  by  turning  back  and  showing  you  what 
fedirie  of  these  men  have  done,  and  where,  by  uni- 
versal consent,  they  stand  in  the  world  of  knowledge. 
*•  '  Who  then  was  Bacon  ?  The  name  had  not  been 
rendered  less  illustrious  by  descending  from  the 
clergyman  of  the  thirteenth  century  to  the  philoso* 
pher  of  the  sixteenth.  Lord  Bacon  was  a  great  libe- 
rator of  literature,  from  the  tyranny  of  form  and 
theory.  The  scholastic  rules  of  reasoning  which 
hsid  prevailed  previous  to  his  day,  were  to  the 
minds  of  men  what  the  coat  of  mail  was  to  their 
bodies,  excellent  for  defence  as  warfare  was  then 
"practised ;  but  an  encumbrance  to  the  limbs  of  a 
'warrior,  and  a  hindrance  to  his  movements,  when 
balled  to  act  for  an  object,  or  in  circumstances  not 


122  THIKD      LECTURE. 

foreseen.  Bacon  created  a  new  era  in  knowledge, 
by  teaching  men  how  to  use  their  faculties  with 
more  freedom  and  effect.  He  did  even  more  in  phi- 
losophy than  Columbus  did  on  our  globe;  for  he 
not  only  showed  how  new  worlds  of  knowledge  may 
be  discovered,  but  also  how  all  their  treasures  may 
be  approached  and  applied  to  promote  every  great 
interest  of  man.  He  turned  upon  the  School-men 
and  asked,  "Is  truth  ever  barren?  Are  we  the 
richer  by  one  poor  invention  by  reason  of  the  learn- 
ing which  has  been  for  these  many  hundred  years  ?" 
And  if  "he  found  knowledge  barren  he  made  it 
fruitful."  He  not  only  taught  that  philosophy  should 
be  drawn  from  facts  ;  but  he  also  showed  how  to 
use  ascertained  facts,  so  as  to  impart  new  clear- 
ness, force  and  value  to  philosophy.  He  gave  new 
meaning  to  the  ma-xim,  that  "knowledge  is  power;" 
and  it  is  from  the  spirit  of  life  which  he  breathed 
into  learning,  endowing  it  with  "  a  living  soul," 
that  we  have  seen  her,  ever  since  his  day,  gradually 
reaching  and  subjecting  one  element  of  nature  after 
another  to  the  welfare  and  happiness  of  the  human 
family.  But  with  all  this  eminence  as  a  philoso- 
pher, no  one  ever  showed  a  more  profound  and 


THIRD     LECTURE.  123 

intelligent  faith  in  the  Bible  than  Lord  Francis 
Bacon.  Among  the  memorable  sayings  in  which 
his  wisdom  and  learning  lie  embalmed  for  future 
generations,  we  find  nothing  more  impressive  than 
his  prayer, — "  Thy  creatures  have  been  ray  books; 
but  thy  scriptures  much  more.    I  have  sought  thee 

;in  the  courts,  fields  and  gardens  ;  but  I  have  found 
thee  in  thy  temples." 

.,  iT  Who  was  Milton?  As  a  poet  he  had  no  com- 
peer. Homer  and  Virgil  may  share  the  laurels  ol 
antiquity  between  them,  but  the  higher  honor  as- 
signed to  Milton,  m  the  lines  of  Dryden,  is  not  to 
be  questioned ; — 

"Three  poets  in  three  distiint  ages  born, 
Greece,  Italy  and  England  did  adorn; 
The  first  in  loftiness  of  thought  surpast ; 
The  next  in  majesty,  in  both  the  last. 
The  force  of  nature  conld  no  further  go; 
To  make  a  third  she  joined  the  other  two. 

But  the  poetry  of  Milton  is  not  the  only  pro- 
duct  of  his  surpassing  intellect  which  entitles  him 
to  the  grateful  admiration  of  his  race.  He  was 
among  the  first  and  best  writers  who  explained  and 
vindicated  those  great  principles  of  civil  and  reli- 


%9i  THIKD      LECTURE. 

gipus  freedom  which  have  borne  their  ripe  fruit  i|i 
the  liberty  and  independence  of  our  own  happy  land. 
iNeed  I  say  what  he  thought  of  Christianity  whose 
"j^^radise  lost  "  and  ^'  Paradise  regained,"  are  one 
continued  tribute  of  reverence  to  the  great  truths  of 
the  gospel  ?  And  yet  so  full  to  the  purpose  of  ineet- 
.ing  objections  of  the  scoffer,  are  the  following  nen- 
te;nces,  that  I  cannot  deny  myself  the  pleasure  oi 
qupting  them.  "  God  having  to  this  end  ordained 
)m*  gospel  to  be  the.  revelation  of  his  power  and 
wisdom  in  Christ  Jesus,  this  is  one  depth  of  hi^ 
wisdom,  that  he  could  so  plainly  reveal  so  great 
a  measure  of  it  to  the  gross,  distorted  apprehen> 
sipn  of  decayed  mankind.  Let  others  therefore 
4j:ead  and  shun  the  Scriptures  for  their  darkness/; 
I'^^^^Jl  wish  I  may  deserve  to  be  reckoned  among 
^Osq  who  admire. and  .dwell  upon  them  for  their 
^le^i-rness."  ■  .,...,.^,,,.-.. 

J >../;. I  will  next  ask  who  was  Sir  Isaac  Newton? 
Had  his  theory  of  light  and  colors  been  his  only 
achievement,  he  would  have  deserved  a  high  place 
sbmong  Natural  Philosophers.  But  when  to  these 
you  add,  not  only  his  advances  in  Mathematical 
science,  but  those  vast  discoveries  in   Astronomy^ 


THIRD      LECTURE.  Ift> 

,  which  render  us  familiar  with  the  laws  and  more* 
ments  of  the  countless  worlds  which  surround  our 
own,  there  is  a  grandeur  attached  to  his  name,  to 

*  which  every  one  loves  to  render  homage.  He  seems 
to  have  overleaped,  at  a  hound,  the  obstacles  which 
had  arrested  the  progress  of  other  men  in  their  in* 
restigations ;  and  so  quick  and  vigilant  was  his 
spirit  of  observation,  that  from  the  fall  of  an  apple 
in  his  garden,  he  first  caught  the  idea  which  ex- 
plains the  revolutions  of  sun,  moon  and  stars.  And 
yet,  no  day  was  allowed  by  Newton  to  ptiss  by 
without  refreshing  his  spirit  by  a  devout  perusal 
of  some  portion  from  the  Holy  Bible.  So  great 
was  his  love  and  reverence  for  it,  that  he  never 
would  allow  an  unbecoming  reference  to  be  made 
to  it  in  his  hearing,  without  a  solemn  rebuke; 
and  engrossed  as  he  was  in  philosophical  pursuits, 
and  high  as  was  the  eminence  to  which  they  had 
raised  his  name,  yet  he  spent  some  of  his  best 
days  in  the  study  and  elucidation  of  the  sacred 
volume.  As  if  ambitious  to  place  on  record  his 
supreme  regard  for  the  Bible,  he  has  told  us  "  I 
count  the  Scriptures  of  God  to  be  the  most  sub- 
lime philosophy.     I  fijid  more  sure  marks  of  au- 

8 


^^^  THIRD    LECTURE. 

ihenticity  in  the  Bible  than  in  any  profane  his* 
tory  whatever.''*t>aoAq  ©iil   '>.ui5C)(^t  .ijilv^nM   k> 

-ni  Who  was  Locke?  The  first  man  who  applied 
the  canons  of  philosophy,  as  set  forth  by  Bacon^' 
to  Metaphysical  Science,  exhibiting  the  powei*i^ 
fond  Jaws  of  the  huma.n  understanding  in  a  foriB^ 
.IvMch  enabled  men  to  know  themselves.  And  if 
the  superb  structure  which  he  reared,  has  since 
Undergone  modifications  and  changes,  we  owe 
jfehese  finishing  improvements  to  a  scholar  of  a 
recent  day ^  who  vies  with  his  great  predecessor  iri 
the  profound  homage  which  both  render  to  the 
value  arid  sacredness  of  Christianity.  The  testi- 
mony of  Locke  to  the  Bible,  remarkable  for  truth 
and  brevity,  and  comprehensiveness,  has  been  so 
ibften  quoted  as  to  render  it  familiar  to  you  all, 
V  The  scriptures  "  he  says  "  have  God  for  their  au- 
thor; eternity  for  their  object;  and  truth,  without 
any  mixture  of  error,  for  their  subject  matter."  un 
aiiu.Whowas  Sir  William  Jones?  A  master  mind 
of  the  fi^st  order.  Though  he  finished  his  career 
before  he  reached  the  age  of  half  a  century,  he  wai 
confessedly  the  first  man  of  his  day  in  the  variety 
and   e^ctent   of    his    learning.     The   accomplished 


THIRD      LECTURE.  12') 

jurist,  and  ripe  scholar  in  the  laws  and  literature 
of  England,  he  hecame  the  pioneer  of  European 
learning  into  the  rich  and  splendid  regions  of  in- 
tellect found  among  the  nations  of  Asia ;  and  from 
their  languages  and  their  laws,  their  poetry  and 
philosophy,  he  brought  tribute  alike  valuable  and 
unexpected  to  the  cause  of  science  and  letters.  But 
when  he  had  made  himself  familiar  with  the  labors 
of  the  greatest  and  purest  minds  both  of  Asia  and 
Europe ;  and  with  a  keen  relish  for  their  various 
beauties,  could  attribute  to  each  their  just  measure 
of  praise  ;  when  he  speaks  of  the  Bible,  he  tells  us 
that  "the  Scriptures,  contain,  independently  of 
their  divine  origin,  more  true  sublimity,  more  ex- 
quisite beauty,  more  pure  morality,  more  impor- 
tant history,  and  finer  strains  both  of  poetry  and 
eloquence,  than  could  be  collected  from  all  other 
books  that  were  ever  composed  in  any  age  or  in 
any  idiom.  The  two  parts  of  which  the  Scriptures 
Consist,  are  connected  by  a  chain  of  compositions 
which  bear  no  resemblance,  in  form  or  style,  to  any 
that  can  be  produced  from  the  stores  of  Grecian, 
Indian,  Persian,  or  even  Arabian  learning.  The 
antiquity  of  those  compositions  no  man  doubts; 


gX^  THfBD     LECTURE. 

cand  the  unrestrained  application  of  them  to  events, 
jiong  subsequent  to  their  publication,  is  a  solid 
[.ground  of  belief  that  they  were  genuine  produc- 
jriions,  and  consequently  inspire4^'',^jNpt  that  he 
1^ thought  less  of  the  diamond  than  of  the  casket 
.which  contained  it.  The  doctrines  pf  the  Bible 
^were  as  precious  to  his  heart  as  the  beauties  of  its 
tstyle  were  grateful  to  his  taste.  One  of  the  last 
l^ms  which  dropped  from  his  cultivated  mind  is 
in  the  beautiful  lines, ,  g^^j^^^  ^^  hm  mm  lo  aiil 

^  Before, thy  mystic  altar,  l^e^venly  truth,  . 

I  kneel  in  manhood,  as  I  knelt  in  youth ; 

Thus  lex  me  kneel,  till  this  dull  form  decay, 
Jaed  'i^'^j^  life's  last  shade  be  brightened  by  thy  ray i^^*^'^ 
SOa    t>' J'  ^en  shall  my  soul,  now  lost  in  clouds  below, V'"**'^^ 
fllOll  ^niB^^r  Mrithout  bound,  without  consuming,  glow.^/"  ^fltxd 

,ofrffi)   ftoinu nuiuvj  ^uU   vh;   i./7oi>  .ij-.   .0  •  rfj 

I  Tq  come  to  our  own  qiountry :,  J  will  first  men- 

jfcion  a  name  which^ .  if  Jfpss.  distinguished  amoi>g 

^jflie  learped,  is  universally  known  and  recognized 

I;  among  the  wise  and  great  of  his  race.    Shall  I  ask, 

fWho  was  Washington?  or  cai^  I  utter  the  word?, 

jmtil  every  one  will  have  answered  in  the  oft  re- 

^jpeated'  language,  "He  was  first  in  war,  first  in 


THIRD      LECTUfeE.  T» 

peace,  and  first  in  the  hearts  of  his  countrymen.' 
In  biir  nation,  he  is  a  man  standing  alone,  on  k 
pedestal  that  can  belong  to  none  but  himself.  11 
^mefe  have  been  men  who  stand  before  him  rh 
brilliancy  and  quickness  of  mind,  in  extent  6f 
learning;  where  does  he  find  a  superior  in  the 
soundness  of  his  opinion  on  every  subject  which  he 
prbfessed  to  understand ;  in  his  accurate  judgment 
is  to  every  thing  which  most  concerned  the  weK 
fare  of  men  and  of  nations  ?  Bat  with  that  noHe 
heart  and  clear  head,  Christianity  was  entwined 
as  an  element  of  his  life.  In  his  boyhood,  its  prin- 
ciples were  implanted  yrithin  him  by  his  widowed 
mother,  while  she  watched  over  him  as  >^  her  best 
earthly  hope.  In  ripe  manhood,  you  could  see 
him,  when  at  the  head  of  our  armies,  going  from 
the  camp  to  sit  down  at  the  communion  table, 
with  a  heart  all  melted  over  the  emblems  of  a 
dying  Saviour's  love;  and  at  this  day,  with  the 
relatives  who  still  survive  him,  is  the  Family 
'Bible,  bearing  its  many  proofs  of  how  often  it  had 
been  perused,  and  how  carefully  he  had  treasured 
up  the  promises  which  sustained  him  in  his  peace- 
ftQ  death.     In  his  various  public  acts,  he  Wjis 


m 


TBIRD      LECTURE. 


studiously  careful  to  proclaim  his  confidence  in 
Ghristianity,  not  only  as  his  own  best  hope,  but 
also  as  the  only  hope  of  the  nation.  '  In '  hiis  ad- 
dress to  the  civil  authorities  of  the  several  States 
itpon  disbanding  the  afihy",  at  the  close  of  the 
Revolution,  he  speaks  in  the  devout  language,  *''l 

now   make   ikiy  fear  nest   prayer  that   God  would 

■  ■'If 
Ii^ve"y6'di' and  the  St^te  over  which  you  preside, 

Under  hi^  holy  protection  ^  tKiit  he  would  inclin^ 

{he  hearts  of  the  citizens '  'to  cultivate  the  spirit  6i 

stibordination  and  obedience  to  government,  to  ^n- 

fettain   a  brothedy   Affection    and    love    for  one 

^  I   .,    .  ,     I       .      -/riyl      ft'Lf'     '^T>f'i  ■  ■  ; '-' 

khother,  for  their  fellow-citizens  of  the '  United 
States  at  large,  and  particularly  for  their  brethren 
^6  have  served  in  the  field ;  and  finally,  that  He 
would  be  most  graciously  pleased  to  dispose  us  all 
tS  do  justice,  to  love  mercy,  and  to  demean  oiif- 
sdves  with  that  charity,  humility,  and  pacific 
temper  of  mind,  which  were  the  characteristics  6l 

r 

the  Divine  author  of  our  blessed  religion,  and 
without  an  humble  imitation  of  whose  example 
ni  these  things,  we  %an  never  hope  to  be  a  happy 
iiatroii."  '""^^"" 

8"^You  will  not  be  surprised  that  in  this  connect 


tion  I  should  refer  to  one  whose  recent  death  hm 
made  us  a  nation  of  mourners,  pjid  at  whose  graV^ 
tjie  jealousies  and  ^strifes  of  political  party  hav|e 
subsided  into  one  sentiment  of  universal  griell, 
"VN^ho.was  Daniel  Webster  ?  We  aJJ;  know  wh^re 
he  stood  as  (\  man,  ^  schohir  and  a  statesjnan.  BL^ 
had  no ,  one  above  him.  If  it  belonged  to  Washi 
ington  alone  to  eniojr  undisputed  pre-eminence  ix\ 
peajce  and  in  war,  jind  in  the  heart  of  the  nation, 
it  is  eqmUly^true  pf  Webster,  that,  Jie  had  niCf 
superior  in  the  SenatOj  at[  tU©  ^prum,  or  in  the 
Cabinet  counci|s  of  hi^  qountjrjr,  »  A^Jiejieyc^^  h^ 

scenes  of  his  former  greatness,  ^ot  a  pow^  o^ 
his  mighty  intellect  \v^as  impaired  by  the  ravages  ol 
disease.  He  died  as  he  h^-d  liyed,  the  great  manj 
but  most  and  ,best  of  all,  the  humble  Christian* 
When  he  had  stood  before  the  Senate  in  the  pieni-, 
tude  of  his  strength,  as  the  acknowledged  defender 
of  the  Constitution,  he  was  not  more  anxious  tha|, 
his  language   might  be  strong  and  his  meaning 


]M  THIRD      LECTURE> 

clear,  than  he  was  in  his  last  dayp,  when  he 
gave  his  testimony  to  the  truth  and  preciousnes$ 
of  the  gospel,  which  reveals  salvation  for  lost  maoj 
through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  As  a  lasting  and 
conspicuous  memorial  of  the  faith  which  supported 
his  heart,  living  and  dying,  he  directed  the  words  of 
Scripture  to  he  inscribed  on  his  tomb, — "  Lord,  1 
believe.  Help  thou  mine  unbelief;"  and  there  tha. 
inscription  stands,  to  be  known  and  read  of  ajl 
men,  to  prove  his  sincerity  and  humility., j^;i^ 
believer  in  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God.  -  •  vix^ 
■  Let  us  for  a  moment  look  back  upon  these  jdi^s 
tinguished  men  ;  and  to  enable  us  the  more  justly 
to  appreciate  the  value  of  their  testimony  to  thd 
truth  of  Christianity,  let  us  obserye,ijajtfiiii  J  ii:>iiiv/ 
-ii.,i^st.  That  they  are  generally  selected  from  those 
pursuits  and  professions  which  are  best  adapted  to 
give  enlargement  and  vigor  to  the  understanding ; 
to  form  its  powers  for  sound  and  clear  discrimina**. 
tion  of  truth  from  error.  This,  it  must  be  confessr 
ed,  is  a  habit  or  power  of  mind  not  always  found 
in  the  secluded  student,  however  deep  or  thorough 
his  investigations.  Too  often  theory  is  every  thing 
with  such  men.    The  creations  of  their  own  minda,^ 


ate  frequently  the  only  creations  which  they  relish. 
Th6  fitness  of  things  to  the  great  purposes  of  life 
'W^ht  they  do  not  always  comprehend,  nor  love 
ik>' contemplate.  The  consequence  is,  they  often 
become  "vain  in  their  imaginations."  Their  minds 
become  unsound.  Anil  frciiW  ^  just  this  Claris -lit 
teamed  men  do  you  find  infidelity  gathering  up 
her  fkvorite  and  most  distinguished  recruits.  A« 
ivery  one  knows,  who  is  acquainted  with  tlie  hW 
graphics  of  her  Humes  and  Rousseaus;  i'mfjgHt 
give  you  instance  after  instance,  to  show  hoW  <rft8h 
they  rendered  themselves  even  ridiculoiis  bjr  iheir 
Ireak  credulity  in  the  concerns  of  piraoticial  Uf^. 
Not  so  with  the  bright  constellation  of  witnesses 
which  Christianity  brings  forward  to  testify  on  he^ 
behalf.  Here  we  see  not  only  men  who  in  their 
day  were  prodigies  of  learning ;  but  we  find  those 
also  among  them  who  have  carried  their  well 
stored  intellects  into  the  active  concerns  of  human 
welfare,  and  have  taken  a  leading  part  in  the  ira* 
provement  and  government  of  mankind,  in  all 
their  civil,  political  and  social  relations.  W^ 
hare  accordingly  shown  you  the  very  choicest  oi 
men,  not  only  from  the  halls  and  groves  of  Pht^ 


134  THIKD      LECTURE. 

losophy,  but  from  the  Bar  and  the  Bench,  from  the 
Camp  and  the  Cabinet;  men  whose  minds  were 
accustomed  to  weigh  in  the  balances  of  truth,  both 

ii  Men  and  things ;  who  could  not  only  reason  with 
clearness,  but  could  act  with  energy ;  and  from 
them  all,  especially  from  the  best  and  greatest  of 

^  them  all,  you  have  leading  advocates  and  orna- 
ments of  Christianity.     Let  me  add, 

2d.  And   in  the  next   place,  several  of  these 

'-  learned  and  distinguished  men  had  once,  or] at 
times,  been  led  to  doubt,  if  not  to  deny  the  inspira- 

/  tion  of  the  Bible.  Their  faith  in  the  Scriptures 
therefore,  was  far  from  being  the  result  of  unthink- 
ing trust.     It  did  not  come  to  them  as  a  matter;  of 

•tradition.  It  was  the  fruit  of  careful  investigation, 
and  generally  of  such  investigation,  at  a  period/  of 
life  when  their  faculties  were  well  matured,  and 
in  the  prime  of  their  strength.     Sir  William  Jones 

i^^had  filled  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land  with 
his  name,  when  feeling  his  mind  unsettled  or  dis- 
turbed on  the  question  by  difficulties  which  had 
been  artfully  thrown  in  his  way,  he  sat  down  and 
gave  all  his  best  powers  to  a  careful  examination 
of  the  subject;  and  became  more  than  ever  a  firm 


THIRD      LECTURE.  13? 

t' beKever  in  the  Gospel,  and  so  remained  until  his 
i'  death.  The  mind  of  Webster  also  had  been  liable 
li  occasionally  to  similar  disquietude.  "  Philosophi- 
jl'cal  ar*,niment,"  he  tells  us,  "especially  that  drawn 
J  "from  the  vastness  of  the  universe,  in  comparison 
)    with  the  apparent  insignificance  of  this  globe,  has 

'sometimes  shaken  my  reason  for  the  faith  which 
is  in  me ;  but  my  heart  has  always  assured  ajid 
o^re-assured  me  that  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ  must 
J' be  a  Divine  reality;"  and  to  give  lasting  evidence 
"J  of  his  final  and  settled  convictions,  he  directed  that 
?^  this  declaration  should  be  engraven  on  his  tomb, 

'side  by  side  with  the  words  already  quoted  as  a 
i  portion  of  his  epitaph.  Notwithstanding  Dr.  Beat- 
^*  tie^s  strong  faith  in  the  Gospel,  and  his  triumphant 
^i^  vindication  of  it  against  infidelity,  many  of  his 
J' i  most  intelligent  readers  have  thought  he  was  de- 
H' scribing  the  conflict  through  which  his  own  mind 
'•had  passed,  when  he  penned  the  beautiful  Une^  in 
-aiOThe  Hermit,'l,iiiiii  aai  i^udtjol  udiiw^.tum^n  tail 

"Twas  thus,  by  the  glare  of  false  Science  betray'd,  * 

^^•^'      That  leads,  to  bewilder;  and  dazzles,  to  blincTi^l^  ^^^ 
n»)i  I      ^y  thoughts  wont  to  roam,  from  shade  onward  to  shade> 
niii]      Destruction  before  me,  and  sorrow  behin4$|  Jjjg  q^  jq 


*8^  THIRD      LECTURE': 

iiii:     Opitjjr,  greftVFutheroflight,  thenlcried^    pnLodf    moil 

£^jj  J.    Thy  creature  who  fair  K'ould  not  wander  from  Th^Ljifd 

.       ,    Lo,  humbled  m  dust,  I  relinquish  my  pride : 

^   From  doubt  and  from  darkness  thou  only  canst  free." 
mo'it  bliovA  botn^ol  oiii  IjeliiiTilJinajL  rioiiiw  aqsJa 

tif^^^Sd.  We  may  further  observe,  that  among  the 
learned  whom  we  have  most  prominently  exhibitii 
ed  as  believers  in  the  gospel,  are  many  who  have 
distinguished  themselves  as  innovators  in  science. 
"We  have  often  been  told  that  if  the  world  should 
see  a  day  when  the  minds  of  men  could  be  released 
from  the  trammels  of  tradition,  and  when  reverence 
for  usage  and  antiquity  would  yield  to  a  spirit  oi 
free  inquiry  after  truth,  then  the  Bible,  with  other 
remnants  of  past  ages,  would  be  disowned.     But^i 
as  we  have  seen,  that  desired  day  of  intellectual: 
liberation  has  been  granted  to  our  world,  and  has 
been  produced  by  the  labors  of  such  intellectual 
reformers  as  we  have  been  describing.     They  werQj 
indeed  far  from  making  a  reckless  and  indiscrimi- 
nate war  on  the  opinions  of  those  who  had  lived 
before  them.     They  did  not.  repudiate  every  thing 
that  was  old  because  it  was  old.     But  while  they, 
felt  a  deep  and  becoming  reverence  for  the  learn- 
ing and  for  the  men  of  former  days ;  so  far  was  it 


THIRD      LECTURE.  IM 

from  being  the  habit  of  their  minds  to  submit 
blindly  to  the  mere  authority  of  antiquity  and 
custom,  they  were  the  very  men  who  took  the  first 
steps  which  disinthralled  the  learned  world  from 
i;^ 'bondage  to  long  established  habits  of  thought 
and  argument.  So  was  it  especially  with  Bacon, 
and  afterwards  with  Newton  and  Locke,  in  their 
respective  spheres  of  study  and  investigation,  la 
Philosophy,  in  Astronomy,  in  Metaphysics,  indeed 
iihroughout  the  whole  wide  range  of  learning,  they 
Inroke  down  the  barriers  which  from  the  days  of 
Aristotle  had  greatly  restrained  and  hindered  free- 
dom of  inquiry;  and  they  carried  their  investiga- 
tions, with  a  fearless  spirit,  into  regions  which  tilli 
then  had  been  considered  as  alike  imknown  and 
forbidden  to  man.  The  great  characteristic  which 
distinguished  these  wonder  working  scholars  lay 
in  this  undismayed  and  adventurous  spirit,  by 
which  they  gave  new  forms  and  larger  growth  to 
science,  and  exploded  and  exposed  the  delusions 
of  former  ages.  But  while  in  their  new  philoso- 
phy they  grasped  a  lever  like  that  of  Archimedes, 
by  which  they  moved  the  world  of  learning  and 
overthrew  error  after  error;  what  was  the  effect 


i£- 


THIRD    LECTURE. 


of  their  new  powers  of  reasoning  when  brought  to 
bear  upon  the  Bible?     It  stood  before  them  as  it  • 
has  always  stood  before  every  one  who  would  eitJ^^ 
amine  into  its  truth  with  sincerity  and  patient  in-»  ^ 
dustry.     Its  stability  iind  divinity  were  made  only.*' 
the  more  manifest  by  the  new  tests  to  which  dt>^ 
was  now  subjected ;  and  none  among  the  learned 
or   unlearned  were   more   devout   believers  in  its 
holy  doctrines  than  the  gigantic  masters  in  learn- 
ing, who  seemed  to  have  been  born  to  liberate  the 
world  from  the  errors  of  former  ages,  and  to  enlight- 
en it  in  the  highest  attainments  of  human  wisdom.'  ^ 
4th.  We  may  remark  in  this  connection,  that 
time,  the  great  test  of  truth  and  wisdom,  is  con- 
tinually furnishing   new  proofs,  which  show  the 
superior    soundness    and   wider    compass    of   the 
learning  that  is  arrayed  on  the  side  of  Christianity. 
This  will  be  more  fully  demonstrated  as  we  pro- 
ceed in  the  lectures  we  have  prescribed  to  our- 
selves.    But  we  will  here  cite  an  instance  of  it, 
which  owing  to  the  occurrences  of  our  day  has 
become  remarkably  striking.     In  the  commenta- 
ries which  Sir  Isaac  Newton  has  written  on  the 
Prophecies  of  Daniel,  and  on  the  Apocalypse,  he 


THIRD     LECTURE.  139 

has  occasion  to  speak  of  the  rapidity  with  which 
events  must  be  brought  to  pass,  in  order  to  prepare 
the  way  for  the  universal  spread  of  the  gospel  at 
the  time  predicted ;  and  he  avows  his  belief  that 
m^n  will  discover  the  means  of  passing  from  place 
to  place  with  unwonted  speed,  perhaps  at  the  rate 
of  fifty  miles  in  an  hour.  Voltaire  in  his  self-con- 
ceit and  hostility  to  religion  scoiOfs  at  the  sugges- 
tion,  not  only  as  a  contradiction  to  the  principles 
of  sober  sense  and  sound  philosophy,  but  as  a  prooi 
of  the  bewildering  and  entangling  influence  of 
Christianity  on  the  mind  of  a  great  man.  He  does 
not  question  the  services  which  Newton  has  ren- 
dered to  the  cause  of  philosophy,  while  devoting 
his  mind  to  subjects  of  science;  but  he  professes 
deep  regret,  to  see  the  enlightened  philosopher  ren- 
dered a  poor  dotiud  by  employing  his  mind  in  the 
study  of  the  Scriptures.  We  now  see  the  locomo- 
tive actually  accomplishing  as  nothing  rare  or  ex- 
traordinary all  that  Newton  foretold;  and  can 
safely  judge  which  of  the  two  has  the  best  claim 
on  our  confidence  as  a  man  of  learning — Newton, 
the  humble  and  sincere  believer  in  the  gospel,  or 
Voltaire,  the  scoffing  infidel. 


140  THIRD    LECTURE. 

-*:c  Nor  would  we  take  leave  of  this  incident  witli- 
out  considering  not  only  how  strongly  it  reminds 
as  of  the  fact,  that  profound  learning  has  been 
generally  if  not  universally  found  on  the  side  o^ 
Christianity ;  but  also  how  it  illustrates  the  care 
and  wisdom  with  which  God  in  his  providence  has 
ordered  the  time  and  manner  of  bringing  forth 
many  of  the  best  discoveries  in  science  and  art,  sb' 
as  most  effectually  to  confound  and  put  to  shame 
the  boastful  objections  of  infidelity  ;  a  wisdom  too, 
which,  as  we  hope  to  show,  both  controls  the 
important  discoveries  that  are  now  essentially  im- 
proving human  comfort  and  welfare,  and  reaches 
even  events  comparatively  minute  and  inconside- 
rable. It  has  been  remarked  as  a  singular  coinci- 
dence, that  the  very  same  press  which  Voltaire  em- 
ployed at  Ferney  to  publish  many  of  his  attacks 
on  Christianity,  was  afterwards  employed  at  Ge- 
neva for  printing  and  disseminating  the  Holy 
Scriptures :  and  also  that  an  estate  which  Gibbon 
purchased  in  Switzerland  with  the  profits  arising 
from  his  infidel  publications,  afterwards  came  into 
the  possession  of  an  owner  who  employed  a  large 
portion  of  the  income  accruing  from  it,  to  aid  in 


THIRD     LECTURE.  HI 

circulating  the  Gospel,  which  Gihbon  had  endea- 
vored to  undermine  and  discredit.  "  This  also 
cometh  forth  from  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  who  is  won- 
derful in  counsel,  and  excellent  in  working."  In 
his  inscrutable  ways  he  employs  means  both  great 
and  small,  to  show  that  his  cause,  like  his  church, 
is  founded  "  on  a  rock,  and  that  the  gates  of  hell 
shall  not  prevail  against  it."  ju 

^^   j5th.  Let  me  add  in  conclusion,  that  much  as  it 
may  avail  to  put  opposers  to  silence,  when  we  find 
such  men  as  those  we  have  ennumerated,  avowing 
themselves  the  sincere  advocates  of  Christianity;! 
we  should  never  forget  that  the  paramount  claim; 
of  this  Holy   Book   upon  our   faith  and  love    ia 
too  high  and  holy  to  be  affected  by  any  human 
authority,  however  great  or  venerable.     The  creed 
of  J, these   eminent  scholars  and   philosophers  bor- . 
rowed  no  lustre  from  their  names,  but  their  names 
have  derived  imperishable  lustre  from  their  creed.  . 
The  stars  can   impart  no  brightness  to  the  sun. 
they  can  but  tell  of  the  effulgence  and  glory  which 
belong  to  him  by  reflecting  the  light  which  they 
borrow  from  him,,  and  in  which  they  shine.     And  ' 

blessed  be  God,  the  light  which  spreads  ii*om  *'  The 

9 


142  THIRD      LECTURE. 

Sun  of  Righteousness,"  can  reach  the  hearts  of  the 
learned  and  the  unlearned,  and  can  "  turn  them 
all  from  darkness  to  light,  and  from  the  power 
of  Satan  unto  Grod."  In  times  gone  by,  it  has 
wrought  its  wonders  of  illumination  and  conver- 
sion, both  "in  the  household  of  the  Caisars"  at 
Imperial  Rome,  and  among  the  barbarous  slaves 
of  her  subjugated  provinces ;  and  while  at  this  day 
it  is  subduing  to  the  obedience  of  faith  the  mighti- 
fest  minds,  in  nations  most  advanced  in  knowledge 
and  refinement,  it  is  also  elevating  the  poor  de- 
graded African,  from  ignorance  and  brutality,  and 
giving  him  a  place  among  the  heirs  of  immortality 
and  glory. 

'  Had  every  time-honored  name  which  we  ha<vc 
placed  before  you  been  arrayed  against  this  holy 
Volume,  had  all  the  learned  of  every  age  and  every 
land  combined,  with  one  consent,  to  pronounce  it 
folly  and  imposture ;  still  our  duty  to  receive  it  as 
the  inspired  word  of  Grod,  *'  worthy  of  all  accepta- 
tion,'* would  not  be  the  less  solemn  and  binding; 
still  it  would  not  be  the  less  precious  to  every  one 
who  has  sins  to  be  forgiven  and  ^  soul  to  be  saved. 
Its   stroncrest   claim   to   bind   the   conscience  and 


THIRD      LECTUHE.  143 

rale  the  conduct,  is  derived  not  only  from  the  ex^ 
temal  evidences  of  its  truth,  but  from  the  imprint 
it  bears  as  a  part  of  its  own  essence,  manifesting 
itself  to  the  heart  of  the  sinner  as  a  revelation  of 
mercy  from  God.  "  Thy  word  is  light,"  and  like 
the  light  shining  from  the  heavens,  it  has  a  selft 
evidencing  power,  making  itself  known  to  every 
one  who  has  the  faculty  of  sight.  It  comes  to 
men  finding  them  weary  and  heavy-laden,  the 
whole  head  sick,  and  the  whole  heart  faint ;  and 
it  commends  itself  to  their  case,  as  a  balm  sent 
fragrant  and  fresh  from  the  garden  of  God,  to 
remove  every  variety  of  woe  which  sin  has  brought 
into  our  world. 

Let  us  turn  our  thoughts  for  a  moment  to  this 
aspect  of  our  subject,  and  see  what  the  gospel  has 
done  and  is  doing  every  day,  as  proof  that  it  comes 
from  above.  It  goes  to  the  house  of  mourning, 
where  the  widow  and  fatherless  are  stricken  down 
by  a  blow  which  has  left  them  bereaved  and 
alone,  and  it  calls  them  to  Him  who  is  "  a  father 
of  the  fatherless,  and  a  judge  of  the  widows,  in  his 
holy  habitation ;"  and  there  dries  up  their  tears, 
and  shows  them  how  to  find  peace,  which  neither 


el44  THIRD      LE(JgpjR^. 

-  death  nor  the  grave  can  take  away  or  impair.  It 
<  enters  the  dark  prison  house,  where  the  victim  of 
r  cruelty  and  oppression  lies  chained  and  immured 
.v-in  his  cheerless  cell,  and  it  spreads  a  light  through 
9 Ms  soul,  till  unconscious  of  his  bonds,  like  Paul 
oiaid  Silas  in  the  prison  at  Philippi,  he  sings  prais- 
;|^:to  God,  and  turns  his  gloomy  dungeon  into  the 
lr>¥estihule  of  heaven.  It  searches  out  the -malady 
fji^rhich  man  can  neither  inflict  or  remove,  the  pain 
.-oof  a  conscience  awaked  to  a  conviction  of  sin 
^i^^d^Xji^  God ;  and  when  the  tossed  and  agonizpd 
5^^inner  cam  find  no  door  of  hope,  no  h^nd  to  heal 
•^jji^ryie  wide  world  around  him,  |t  points  him  to  tlie 
atoning  "Lamb  of  God  who  taket]i  away  the  sins 
fr-^of  tlie)wprl(J.;'Vand  at  tha  sigh^,iQt,tlie  cross,  and 
,ffof(the  bleeding  victi^i  there,  a  ^(^nse  of  forgiveness 
jjf^.from  God  scatters  every  cloud,  and  becomes  witt^in 
Qj)ijm,.a  fountain  of  joy  which  even  angels  never 
Ytj^t.j^;,^t  ,<5omes  to  the  ;heart  sick  with  the  cares 
tvrand  crosses  of  this  world,  sore  and  faint  from  being 
.jjsp  often ;  pijerced  by  the  broken  reed  on  which  it 
jr[)bas  leaned;  and  when  th.e  drooping  sufferer,  Uke 
ojthe  patriarch  of  Uz,  would  almost  "choose  strang- 
^  ling  and  death  rather  than  li^e,"    it  breathes  re- 


THIRD      LECTURE.  '14$ 

fresliment  and  peace  into  his  spirit,  and  pointing -lo 
the  skies  as  his  home,  gives  patience  to  wait  ibr 
the  hour  when  "the  weary  are  at  rest  and  the 
wicked   cease   from   troubling."     And  when   that 
last  hour  has  come,  the  hour  which  awaits  us,  one 
"and  all,  the  hour  when  we  must  die,  and  when  the 
^■^ul  within  us,  if  left  to  itself,  would  shrink  ba^k 
'  from  the  darkness  before  it;  then  does  the  gospel 
shine  alike  before  the  learned  and  the  unlearned, 
^*  and  brightening  the  vale  before  us,  till  it  has  chang- 
ed the  gloom  of  death  into  the  brightness  of  immor- 
tality, we  become  lost  in  its  glory,  and  exchange 
'^'the  sighs  of  pain  and  fear  for  the  song  of  Moses 
and  the  Lamb.  ^uu..  r. 

These  are  the  fruits  of  the  gospel,  well  known 
and  widely  spread,  and  to  these  it  makes  its  high- 
est and  strongest  appeal,  as  proof  that  it  comes 
from  God.     When  its   Divine  Author  came  into 
our  world,  he  proclaimed  both  his  own  character, 
«'and  the  object  of  his  mission,  in  the  heart-touching 
words — "  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  God  is  upon  me ; 
^^  because    the    Lord   hath   anointed   me   to   preach 
*S  good  tidings  unto  the  meek ;  he  hath  sent  me  to 
bind  up  the  broken  hearted,  to  proclaim  liberty  to 


140  THIBD     LECTURE. 

the  captives,  and  the  opening  of  the  prison  to  them 
thyt  'are  bound ;  to  prochiiin  the  acceptable  year 
of  the  Lord,  and  the  day  of  vengeance  of  our  Grod  i^ 
to  comfort  all  that  mourn,  to  appoint  unto  them 
that  mourn  in  Zion,  to  give  unto  them  beauty  for' 
ashes,  the  oil  of  joy  for  mourning,  the  garment  ol 
praise  for  the  spirit  of  heaviif^s ;  that  they  might 
be  called  Trees  of  righteousness,  the  planting  6f^ 
the  Lord,  that  he  might  be  glorified."  And  in  such^' 
d^eds  of  mercy  and  loving  kindness,  his  holy  word 
has  engraved  the  record  of  its  own  divinity  and 
value,  throughout  all  ages  and  all  nations  in 
which  it  has  been  known ;  not  on  tablets  that 
might  decay  and  be  lost,  but  on  immortal  souls 
of '  the  redeemed,  who  are  to  live  forever.  And 
when  infidelity  would  persuade  us  to  ca.st  it  away 
as  delusion  and  vanity,  let  her  first  show  us  what 
she  has  to  give  us  in  its  room.  Let  her  spread 
before  us  a  truthful  record  of  the  woes  she  has ' 
healed,  and  the  joys  in  life  and  death  which  she- 
has  dispensed.  We  challenge  her  to  the  task ;  we^^' 
demand  that  she  tell  us,  where  we  can  find  the" 
widow  and  the  oi'phan  that  she  has  comforted,  the 
oppressed  that  she  has  relieved,  the  wounded  go»-'> 


THIRD      LECTURE.  141 

Kcience  that  she  has  soothed  and  healed,  the  dying 
that  she  has  made  triumphant  over  death  and  th(^ 
grave ;  and  if  she  will  undertake  to  furnish  such 
proofs  of  her  value  to  fallen  man,  we  will  leav0 
l^er  laboring  in  the  fire,  aiming  to  do  what  cannot 
be  done  til  J  she  has  wearied  herself  out  with  her 
vain  inventions,  and  we  will  then  ppen  a  new  leal 
to  show  the  fruits  of  the  Gospel,  as  a  proof  that  it] 
comes  from  G-od.    What  we  have  seen  are  but 
parts  of  its  ways  for  the  welfare  of  man.     We  can 
point  to  the  future  of  our  world  with  as  much  con- 
fidence as  we  catt  jrefer  to  the  past.     The  day  is 
coming  when  the  Gospel. will  expel  from  the  face 
of  the  whole  earth  the  calamities  which  infidelity, 
and  other  forms  of  depravity,  have  brought  on  outr^ 
rt^ce ;  when  it  will  so  subdue  and  calm  down  the 
eyil  passions  of  m^n,  that  with  one  accord  "they? 
shall  beat  their  swords  into  ploughshares,  and  their 
spears  into  pruning  hooks;  nation  shall  not  lift  up  I 
sword  against  nation,  neither  shall  they  learn  warJ 
any  more ;"  when  it  will  so  unite  them  to  God  audi 
to  each  other,  and  so  fill  their  minds  with  a  know- 
ledge of  his  will,  that  "  they  shall  teach  no  more< 
every  man  his  neighbor,  and  every  man  his  brother|. 


148  THIRD     LECTURE. 

saying,  Know  the  Lord ;  for  they  shall  all  know  him, 
from  the  least  of  them  unto  the  greatest  of  them ;" 
when  even  the  great  and  wise  of  this  world  who 
may  now  magnify  themselves  against  the  Lord  aid 
against  his  Anointed,  will  hasten  to  lay  their  earthly 
glories  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  of  their  own  will 
"  casting  down  imaginations  and  every  high  thing 
that  exalteth  itself  against  the  knowledge  of  God, 
and  bringing  into  captivity  every  thought  into  the 
obedience  of  Christ."  All  this  happy  change  is  yet 
to  be  wrought  in  our  world  by  the  Gospel;  ai^d 
thus,  as  age  follows  age,  in  time  to  come  will  the 
proof  grow  brighter  and  brighter,  that  the  Bible  is 
a  revelation  of  grace  and  mercy  from  HesLvenrs-n 


fiiihitai- 

^J^hff[uOiiA 

0  v' )                 ;  «uod^  ino  b*^  inn  i  OYsi  i 

asioa  bac 

l-gtd.  ^Ai  »qiil«i 

iia 

-9d  inO.     ,o!(fifI              ^bia  eti: 

\0:tisq 

•Kit 

\U:.'.  ■      lido    Hfr 

'AlSOVf  QW 

oil)  ^.1  <  oxilqqjBd  ioAii  e^bh  il^  no  baiiixubji  si  il 


^   OF  TH1?     ^ 

orf'y/  it  n.ovo  no  Aw 

1  Christianity  contrasted  with  Infidelity,  in  its  influence 
^liitTirj(gi  lie.  happiness  of  Man  in  this  world.  s^> 

liiw   fi//o  -^f-Tft  'f-^  .'^r^n-'o  ^rft  *^n  jf^'^'\  orft  t^'gohofg 

,  Proverbs,  xiii.  14,  15.  -    r   « 

Jo^  ^'^'The  law  of  the  wise  is  a  fountain  oflife^'^\  . 
6w^  the  wai/  of  transgressors  is  hardy  ^     '   '"' '  Z^*-' 

'  '  Til  a  previous  lecture  we  hft-Ve  dontrast^d  the 
learning  arrayed  against  Christianity,  with  that 
which  has  heen  enlisted  in  its  favor  and  defence. 
We  did  not  confine  ourselves  to  any  one  branch  of 
knowledge;  and  to  whatever  department  of  letters 
and  science  we  have  turned  our  thoughts,  we  have 
still  found  the  ripest  scholarship,  the  highest  stan- 
dard of  learning,  on  the  side  of  the  Bible.  But  be- 
fore we  have  done  with  this  part  of  our  subject 
we  would  carry  the  contrast  between  Christianity 
and  Infidelity  still  farther. 

It  is  admitted  on  all  sides  that  happiness  is  the 


150  FOURTH     LECTUHE. 

great  object  of  human  pursuit,  one  great  end  of 
man's  existence.     No  one  who  claims  to  be  a  ra- 
il ttional  being  would  so  blaspheme  his  Maker,  or  do 
such  violence  to  his  own  nature,  as  to  deny  that 
y  ihe  was  made  to  be  happy.     Grod  is  perfectly  bless- 
ed in  himself,   and  "in  his  own  image  made  he 
^  m^un.-' Of  course,  whatever  most  effectually  and 
really  promotes  our  happiness  here  and  hereaftdjr, 
bears  on  its  face  that  it  comes  from  God;  for   it 
contributes  to  the  fulfilment  of  His  wise  and  mer- 
ciful purpose  when  He  called  us  into  being.    Let 
us  now  weigh  Christianity  and  Infidelity  in  these 
balances,  so  far  as  may  be  practicable  in  a  single 
i-j  discourse.     Let  us  contrast  their  respective  influ- 
jience  on  the  happiness  of  those  who  embraced  the 
one  or  the  other.    Nor  will  we  here  speak  of  what 
y:»waits  men  in  the  eternal  world,  when  they  have 
:». passed  beyond  that  vail  which  no  human  eye  is 
allowed  to  penetrate.    We  confine  our  argument  to 
what  we  can  all  see,  respecting  which  there  can  be 
no  dispute ;  and  we  ask,  is  the  christian  or  the  in- 
L.fidel  the  happier  man  in  life,  and  at  death,  evpn 
was  there  no  eternity  to  follow  ?  .miil 

I  am  the  more  willing  to  take  a  view  of  cm 


FOURTH     LECTURE,  151 

subject  in  this  light  in  order  to  meet  and  refute  a 
reproach   that   infidels   are   constantly  casting  on 

*  Christianity.  We  all  know  how  loudly  they  talk 
of  the  bondage  and  the  privations  which  religion 
inflicts  on  the  christian;  and  how  triumphantly 
they  contrast  all  this  imagined  misery  with  their 

^  own  enlarged  measure  of  enjoyment,  springing,  as 
they  would  have  us  believe,  from  their  rejection  of 
the  faith  and  practice  enjoined  in  the  Bible.  On  a 
question  like  this,  facts  well  attested  should  be 
allowed  to  speak  for  themselves;  we  accordingly 
appeal  to  them,  and  in  evidence  of  how  far  infidel- 
ity makes  the  infidel  a  happy  man,  we  will  let  him 
speak  for  himself.  Let  it  be  observed  too,  that  as 
witnesses  on  behalf  of  Infidelity,  we  will  select 
those  with  whom  the  world  has  dealt  most  kindly. 
We  will  cite  those,  and  those  only,  who,  according 

^  to   their   own    creed,    possessed    every   advantage 

o) which  tends  to  give  peace  and  happiness.    They 

'  shall  be  those  who  not  only  had  wealth  and  what- 
ever it  could  procure,  but  who  had  also  gained  a 

'prize  that  gold  and  silver  could  not  buy ;  they  had 
fame — a   world-wide    fame ;    they  had  station  to 

^'lirhich  all  around  them  looked  up;    they  had  an 


1^3  FOUllTH      LECTURE. 

homage  paid  to  them  for  their  acquirements,  of 
mind,  which  even  princes  and  kings  coviid  not  com^-^ 
mand.  They  had  everything  but  religion;  every^-^^ 
thing  but  what  we  call  "the  ojae  thing  needful,"; 
but  which  they  called  the  one  thing  needless  j  ^4 
vain.  Let  us  learn  from  their  own  confessions  of 
what  avail  were  their  high  attainments  to  give 
them  peace  and  happiness  while  they  lived  anij 
when  they  died,  and  then  contrast  their  state  witl^ 
that  of  men  who  superadded  to  intellectual  dis* 
tinction  and  high  station  a  firm  and  controlling 
faith  in  the  Grospel.  i   f.j^i 

Let  us  glance  at  some  of  them  when  in  th(^ 
prime  of  their  strength  and  greatness,  when  tjie 
world  was  still  smiling  on  them  with  its  flatteries, 
and  their  fame  yet  towering  at  its  culminating 
point.  It  was  at  such  a  period  of  his  life  that  w^e 
will  look  at  Voltaire,  and  hear  from  him,  the  utter- 
ings  of  his  heart  in  view  of  all  around  him.    ,^^^^ 

"  Who  "  he  exclaims,  "  can,  without  horror,  con- 
sider  the  whole  world  as  the  empire  of  destruction  ? 
It  abounds  with  murders ;  it  also  abounds  with  vic- 
tims. It  is  a  vast  field  of  carnage  and  contagion. 
Every  species  is  without  pity  pursued,  and  torn  to 


FOURTH     LEC¥TT'l('Erl  153 

pieces  through  the  earth,  and  air,  and  water.  In 
niah  there  is  more  wretchedness  than  in  all  the 
ottier  animals  put  together.  He  loves  life,  and  yet 
he  kiloM^g  that  he  must  die.  If  he  enjoys  a  transient 
good,  he  suffers  various  evils,  and  is  at  last  devour! 
ed  by  worms.  This  knowledge  is  his  fatal  preroga- 
tive; other  animals  have  it  not.  He  spends  the 
transient  moments  of  his  existence  in  diffusing  the 
miseries  Which  he  suffers  Jiri^chtting  the  throats  (rf 
his  fellow-creatures  for  pay ;  in  cheating  and  bein* 
(Cheated;  in 'tobblhg' and  being  robbed ;  in  serving 
that  he  may  command,  and  in  repenting'  of  all  he 
•tfofes." '  The  bulk  of  mankind  are  nothing  more  than 
i  crowd  of  wretches  equally  criminal  and  unfoi?- 
tunate,  and  the  globe  contains  rather  carcases  than 
M6ii,  I  tremble,  in  the  review  of  this  dreadful  pio- 
%re,  to  find  that  it  contains  a  complaint  against 
Providence  itself;  and  I  wish  that  I  had  never 
been  born."  ^^^^■".^^  i*'«  ^^  wtnv.m  ixcdrf  aid  Ito^^isiL 
•"^Equally  gloomy  and  disconsolate  were  the 
Views  of  Hume  while  immersed  in  his  infidel  philo- 
sophy, as  he  tells  us  in  the  confession :  "  Methinks," 
he  says,  "  I  am  like  a  man  who,  having  struck  on 
inany  shoals  and  quicksands,  and  narrowly  escaped 


154  FOURTH      LECTURE. 

shipwreck  on  passing  a  small  frith,  has  yet  the  te- 
merity to  put  out  to  sea  in  the  same  leaky,  weath- 
er-heaten  vessel,  and  even  carries  his  ambition  so 
far  as  to  think  of  compassing  the  globe  under  these' 
disadvantageous  circumstances.  My  memory  of 
past  errors  makes  me  diffident  of  the  future ;  the 
wretched  condition,  weakness,  and  disorder  of  the 
faculties  I  must  employ  in  the  inquiry,  increase 
my  apprehensions ;  the  impossibility  of  correcting 
or  amending  these  faculties  reduces  me  almost  to 
despair,  and  makes  me  resolve  to  perish  on  the  bar- 
ren rock  on  which  I  am  at  present,  rather  than 
enter  upon  the  boundless  ocean  which  runs  out 
into  immensity.  This  sudden  view  of  my  danger 
strikes  me  with  melancholy,  and  I  cannot  forbear 
feeding  my  despair  with  all  those  desponding  re- 
flections which  the  present  subject  furnishes  me 
with  in  such  abundance.  I  am  first  affrighted  and 
confounded  with  that  forlorn  solitude  in  which  I 
am  placed  in  my  philosophy,  and  fancy  myself 
some  uncouth,  strange  monster,  who  not  being  able 
to  mingle  and  unite  in  society,  has  been  expelled 
all  human  commerce,  and  left  utterly  abandoned 
aiid  disconsolate.    Pain  would  I  run  into  the  crowd 


FOURTH     LEC^lj^UB.^.  155, 

for  shelter  and  warmth,  but  cannot  prevail  upon 
myself  to  mix  up  with  such  deformity.  I  call  upon 
others  to  join  me  in  order  to  make  a  company 
apart,  but  no  one  will  hearken  to  me — every  one 
shuns  me  and  keeps  at  a  distance  from  that  storm 
which  beats  upon  me  on  every  side.  When  1  look 
abroad,  I  see  on  every  side  dispute,  contradiction, 
anger,  calumny  and  detraction;  when  I  turn  my 
eye  inward  I  find  nothing  but  doubt  and  igno- 
rance. All  the  world  conspires  to  oppose  and  con- 
tradict me,  though  such  is  my  weakness,  I  feel  my 
opinions  loosen  and  fall  off  of  themselves,  when 
unsupported  by  the  approbation  of  others ;  every 
step  I  take  is  with  hesitation,  and  every  new  re- 
Hection  makes  me  dread  an  error  and  absurdity  in 
my  reasoning — for  with  what  confidence  can  I 
venture  on  such  bold  enterprises,  when  besides 
those  numberless  infirmities  so  peculiar  to  myself, 
I  find  so  many  that  are  common  to  human  nature? 
This  intense  view  of  manifold  contradictions  and 
infirmities  in  human  reason,  has  so  worked  upon 
my  brain  that  I  am  ready  to  reject  all  belief  and 
reasoning,  and  can  look  upon  no  opinion  even  as 
i^ore  likely  and  probable  than  another.    Where  am 


156  FOURTH      LECTURE. 

7:1 'J  0^. 

I,  or  what?  From  what  causes  do  I  derive  my 
existence,  and  to  what  condition  shall  I  return? 
Whose  favor  shall  I  court,  and  whose  anger  shall  I 
dread  ?  What  beings  surround  me,  and  on  whom  , 
have  I  any  influence,  or  who  have  any  influence 
on  me  ?  I  am  confounded  by  all  these  questions,  ^ 
and  begin  to  fancy  myself  in  the  most  deplorable 
condition  imaginable,  environed  with  the  deepest 
darkness,  and  utterly  deprived  of  the  use  of  every 
member  and  faculty." 

Let  us  turn  to  another,  the  most  polished  geav 
tleman  and  splendid  orator  of  his  day,  himself  <^ 
noble  descent,  and  so  gifted  with  brill ia'ncy  of 
parts,  that  nobles  and  royalty  itself  sought  for  his 
company  at  any  price ;  so  elevated  in  authority 
that  the  destinies  of  an  empire  were  committed  to 
his  hands ;  and  withal  a  scholar  who  drank .  freely 
from  the  fountains  of  learning  and  general  iiatie.lli- 
gence.  Let  us  hear  the  urbane,  the  powerful,  the 
envied,  but  infidel  Chesterfield  speak,  Ujjjr.^^.T^rjff^^,.^ 

J  "I  have  run,"  he  tells  us,  "the  silly  rounds  pi 
pleasure,  and  of  business ;  and  I  have  done  with 
them  all.     I  have  enjoyed  all  the  pleasures  of  the 

world,  and  consequently  know  their  futility,  and 

01 


. -t  » 


FOURTH      LECTURE.  157 

do  not  regret  their  loss.  I  appraise  them  at  their 
real  value,  which  is  in  truth  very  low;  whereas 
those  who  have  not  experienced,  always  overrate 
them.  They  only  see  their  fair  outside,  and  are 
dazzled  with  their  glare.  But  I  have  heen  hehind 
the  scenes.  I  have  seen  all  the  coarse  pullies  and 
dirty  ropes  which  exhibit  and  move  the  gaudy  ma- 
chines ;  and  I  have  seen  and  smelt  the  tallow  can- 
dles which  illuminated  the  whole  decoration  to  the 
astonishment  and  admiration  of  an  ignorant  audi- 
ence. When  I  reflect  back  upon  what  I  have  seen, 
what  I  have  heard,  what  I  have  done,  I  can  hardly 
persuade  myself  that  all  that  frivolous  hurry  and 
bustle  and  pleasure  of  the  world  had  any  reality ; 
and  I  look  on  what  has  passed  as  one  of  those  wild 
dreams  which  opium  occasions,  and  I  by  no  means 
desire  to  repeat  the  nauseous  dose  for  the  sake  of 
the  fugitive  illusion.  Shall  I  tell  you  that  I  bear 
this  melancholy  situation  with  that  meritorious 
constancy  and  resignation  which  most  people  boast 
of?  No.  I  cannot  help  it.  I  bear  it,  because  J 
must  bear  it,  whether  I  will  or  no.  I  think  ot 
nothing  but  killing  time  the  best  way  I  can,  now 

that  he  has  become  mine  enemy." 

10 


158  FOURTH      LECTURE. 

bti  These  wailings  of  hate  and  despair  are  in  such 
close  resemblance  to  the  following  lines  of  Byron, 
that  we  cannot  refrain  from  quoting  them.  He 
was  alike  eminent  in  the  splendor  of  his  genius 
and  in  his  hardened  wickedness ;  and  he  give^  us 
an  insight  into  the  desolation  of  his  heart  when  he 
proclaims  in  his  fascinating  verse  ;  ; 

„.;.,!,(;       "Though  gay  companions  o'er  the  bowl, 
^,  / ;,   ).       r  Dispel  awhile  the  sense  of  ill,  .  ,,j 

Though  pleasure  fill  the  maddening  soul, 

The  heart — the  heart  is  lonely  still. 

'-'""•■"■jt-'   --—■-•    -■ 

"  Count  iWlfte^j67^*thi\i6  hours  have  seen, 

'p                   Count  o'er  thy  days  from  anguish  free,  ■  :>i 

^'                 And  know  whatever  thou  hast  been,  ^  .] 

'Tis  something  better  not  to  be.  i 

"  Nay,  for  myself,  so  dark  my  fate  v 

aiiiloil        Through  every  turn  of  life  hath  been, 

'  ^t(5  il  s//  Men  and  the  world  so  much  I  hate, 
f  r4i  <bl'i<l  care  not  when  I  quit  the  scene." 

ir  /Thus  strangers  to  happiness,  and  steeped  ir 
wretchedness  during  their  lives,  do  we  find  thes^ 
enemies  of  God  and  of  the  Bible ;  and  all  this 


FOURTH      LECTURE.  159 

misery  was  preying"  upon  them  when  they  had 
everything  to  make  them  happy,  except  a  sanctify- 
ing faith  in  the  Gospel.  Gro  where  they  would,  do 
what  they  would,  think  what  they  would,  say 
what  they  wou  Id,  bitterness  was  in  every  cup  from 
which  they  drank ;  they  "  were  like  the  troubled 
sea  when  it  cannot  rest,  and  the  way  of  peace  have 
they  not  known." 

Let  us  now  turn  from  these  apostles  of  Infideli- 
ty to  the  great  apostle  of  Christianity ;  to  Paul,  the 
servant  of  God  and  of  his  Son  Jesus  Christ.  No  one 
can  be  quoted  who  was  better  qualified  than  Paul 
to  form  a  wise  judgment  on  all  questions  appertain- 
ing to  the  happiness  and  welfare  of  man.  He  was 
born  to  an  inheritance  that  made  him  familiar  with 
the  refinements  and  even  the  luxuries  of  life.  He 
was  brought  up  at  the  feet  of  Gamaliel.  He  had 
learning  that  placed  him  among  the  ripest  scholars 
of  his  day ;  and  he  had  a  vivid  sense  of  whatever 
was  most  finished  and  beautiful  in  the  world,  both 
of  nature  and  of  art  around  him.  His  eloquence 
was  so  powerful,  that  more  than  once  it  awed 
kings  and  princes  on  their  thrones,  and  rang  alarm 
into  the  heart  of  Athens  and  of  Rome*  ^o  eohumw 


UiJO  FOURTH      LECTURE. 

,lly  But  "what  things  were  gain  to  him,  those  he 
counted  loss  for  Christ;"  and  while  with  a  zeal 
..Ihat  never  waxed  cold,  he  consecrated  all  his  rich 
powers  to  the  salvation  of  lost  men,  preaching  to 
them  Christ  and  him  crucified,  wishing  no  other 
recompense  than  to  see  them  saved  from  eternal 
death,  and  prepared  for  immortality,  through  faith 
in  the  Gospel ;  he  was  reviled  as  a  malefactor,  treat- 
ed as  "the  off-scouring  of  all  things."     The  world, 
for  which  he  labored  night  and  day,  had  neither 
^wealth  nor  honors,  nor  smiles,   as  a  recompense 
4qx  his  toils ;  and  all  that  he  had,  and  to  which 
Me  could  look  for  happiness  in  this  world  or  in  the 
j¥orld  to  come,  was  his  religion,  his  faith  in  Christ. 
irr-    What  does  he  tell  us  concerning  himself,  and 
the  habitual  frame  of  his  spirit  ?     Was  he  a  stran- 
ger to  heart-felt  happiness  as  he  went  through  his 
mo^t  eventful  and  laborious  life?     Had  he  confes- 
isions  to  make  such  as  those  we  have  just  heard, 
of  inward  wretchedness,  a  disgust  with  men  and 
sthings  around  him  that  made  life  a  burden  ?    We 
shall  let  him,  as  we  have  let  the  others,  speak  for 
iliimself     As   if  picturing   the   experience   of  the 
i< whole  christian  world,  in  what  he  felt  within  his 


FOURTH      LECTURE.  161 

own  heart,  he  declared,  "being  justified  by  faith, 
we  have  peace  with  God,  through  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ;  by  whom  also  we  have  access,  by  faiths 
into  this  grace  wherein  we  stand,  and  rejoice  in 
hope  of  the  glory  of  God.  And  not  only  so,  but  we 
glory  in  tribulations  also ;  knowing  that  tribula- 
tion worketh  patience ;  and  patience,  experience ; 
and  experience,  hope ;  and  hope  maketh  not  asham- 
ed, because  the  love  of  God  is  shed  abroad  in  our 
hearts  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  is  given  unto  us.^' 
Nor  did  this  elevating  hope  fail  him  under  the 
heaviest  of  calamities.  He  could  speak  of  perils 
without  number  which  had  beset  him ;  "  perils  in 
the  city,  perils  in  the  wilderness,  perils  on  the  sea, 
perils  by  the  heathen,  perils  by  false  brethren ;  in 
weariness  and  painfulness,  in  hunger  and  thirst,  in 
cold  and  nakedness ;"  and  yet,  under  all  these  com- 
plicated trials,  he  can  tell  us ;  "  We  faint  not,  for 
though  our  outward  man  perish,  yet  the  inward 
man  is  renewed  day  by  day.  For  our  light  afflic- 
tion, which  is  but  for  a  moment,  worketh  for  us  a 
far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory/ 
And  when  at  last  he  is  a  prisoner  at  Rome,  and 
feels  that  he  is  a  doomed  man,  that  the  scaffold  oi 


.16^  FOURTH      LECTURE. 

the  stake  lie  just  before  him,  hear  him  tell  how  he 
views  both  the  past  and  the  future  of  his  life. 
^*^-I  am,"  says  he,  "  now  ready  to  be  offered,  and  the 
time  of  my  departure  is  at  hand.  I  have  fought 
a  good  fight,  I  have  finished  my  course,  1  have 
kept  the  faith ;  henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  ek 
crown  of  righteousness,  which  the  Lord,  the  right- 
eous Judge,  shall  give  me  at  that  day;  and  not  to 
tne  only,  but  unto  all  them  also  that  love  his  ap- 
pearing." "'^^ 
cxf  Such  was  Paul.  He  drank  from  the  "pleasures 
which  are  at  God^s  right  hand,"  and  was  a  happy' 
man.  If  he  had  trials,  he  endured  them  with 
patience,  and  even  received  them  with  gladness, 
|>ecause  sent  to  him  by  a  Redeemer,  who,  by  means 
of  tribulation  on  earth  was  preparing  him  for  rich- 
er enjoyment  in  heaven.  In  the  darkest  cloud  that 
could  overshadow  his  path,  there  was  a  bright 
opening  through  which  he  could  see  the  glory  that 
was  above  it,  and  in  which  he  was  himself  to  be 
alrayed  at  last  as  the  end  of  his  conflicts-  What- 
ever he  does  or  endures,  we  hear  no  bitter  com- 
j^aint  from  liim  that  he  had  ever  been  born ;  no 
'  sullen  onslaught  upon  time  as  his  enemy.     Thes0 


FOURTH      LECTURE.  168 

bitter  and  blasphemous  revilings  come  from  those 
who  rejected  the  faith  which  he  embraced;  and  from 
a  comparison  of  the  one  with  the  other,  as  they 
have  themselves  recorded  their  own  experience,  we 
)iavQ  evidence  to  show  how  wretched  infidelity 
makes  the  most  splendid  of  infidels,  and  how  happy 
Christianity  makes  the  most  tried  of  Christians. 

X  ,To  the  testimony  of  Paul  I  might  add  that  of 
thousands,  to  show  the  influence  of  the  gospel  in 
ministering  to  the  happiness  of  man,  while  bearing 
iixe  trials,  or  fulfilling  the  duties  allotted  to  him  as  he 
msses  through  the  world.  Let  us  now  look  at  the 
closing  scene  of  life,  and  contemplate  the  contrast 
Vie  there  find  between  the  christian  and  the  infidel. 
^  Socrates  has  defined  true  philosophy  to  be, 
"  ^he  study  of  death ;"  and  no  one  can  think  too 
highly  of  the  wisdom  that  leads  us  to  prepare  fop 
death  before  it  overtakes  ourselves,  and  to  under- 
stand the  lessons  it  \vas  designed  to  enforce,  whe^ 
we  see  it  in  others.  The  utterances  that  come  to 
us  from  the  brink  of  the  grave,  fall  on  the  ear  like 
au  .echo  from  the  throne  of  eternity  itself  How- 
ever long  and  closely  the  vail  of  deceit  may  have 
been  worn,  we  expect  to  find  it  there  laid  aside; 


'jIW  fourth    lecture. 

Sox  the  man  must  be  so  far  debased  by  his  wicked- 
ness, that  little  of  humanity  can  yet  belong  to  him 
who  is  not  awed  into  sincerity  and  honesty  when 

uabout  to  appear  in  the  presence  of  that  omniscient 
Judge  who  "  searches  the  heart  and  tries  the 
reins,  even  to  give  every  man  according  to  his  ways, 
and  according  to  the  fruit  of  his  doings."  Hence, 
notwithstanding  the  exaggerated  importance  somfe- 
times  ascribed  to  death-bed  scenes,  it  is  a  matter  ol 
general  consent,  that  death  puts  the  final  seal  to 
the  character  of  the  man.  The  observation  seems 
not  only  striking,  but  just,  that  like  a  man's  last 
will  and  testament,  his  character  is  never  irrevoca^ 
bly  determined  till  he  dies ;  and  as  it  appears  in  his 

1  death,  it  generally  endures  in  the  estimation  of  the 
generations  that  follow  him. 

The  truth  of  this  is  felt  by  infidels  as  well  as 
by  christians ;  and  here  we  see  the  reason  why  the 
enemies  of  religion  are  not  only  so  anxious  to  throw 
around  the  death  scene  of  the  unbeliever,  some- 
thing that  wears  a  semblance  of  composure,  and  to 
hide  from  the  eyes  of  the  world  the  agonies  of  his 
last  hours;  but  also,  why  they  so  unblushingly  vio- 
late truth  in  detracting  from  the  tranquillity  and 


FOURTH      LECTURE.  "il^S 

ftriumph  of  dying  christians  who  have  been  emi- 
iiQent  for  piety,  learning  and  distinguished  services 
to  the  cause  of  Christianity.     Calvin,  the  great  Re- 
Ibrmer,    died   enjoying  the   most   entire  peace  of 
mind ;  and  yet  he  was  represented  by  his  enemies 
,  a«  overwhelmed  by  despair  in  his  last  moments, 
lathe  same  spirit  were  the  name  and  memory  ol 
Luther  assailed.     Baxter,  whose  praise  is  in  all  the 
I  churches  as  an    author  whose  pen  has  been  the 
means  of  eternal  life  to  thousands,  enjoyed  not  only 
^  tranquillity,  but  an  unusual  measure  of  joy  in  his 
J  last  illness.     Yet  he  was  represented  as  distracted 
)by  sceptical  doubts  in  his  death.  'hsui  fffw 

'r  We  should  however  bear  in  mind,  that  the  last 
hours  of  distinguished  christians  have  not  in  all 
cases,  and  as  a  matter  of  course,  afforded  that  ai|i- 
ple  evidence  of  triumph  which  their  friends  had  ex- 
pected, as  the  fitting  conclusion  of  their  previous 
career.  In  an  interview  between  the  eloquent 
Whitfield  and  his  friend  Dr.  Finley,  the  raemora- 
ble  sayings  of  dying  christians  became  the  sub- 
ject of  conversation.  Dr.  Finley  remarked,  "  Mr. 
Whitfield,  I  hope  it  will  be  very  long  before  you 
are  called  home,  but  when  that  event  shall  arrive, 


106  FOURTH      LECTURE. 

[  should  be  glad  to  hear  the  noble  testimony  you 
will  bear  for  Grod."  "  You  would  be  disappointed, 
Doctor,"  said  Whitfield,  *'  I  shall  die  silent.  It  has 
pleased  God  to  enable  me  to  bear  so  many  testi- 
monies for  him  during  my  life,  that  he  will  require 
none  from  me  when  I  die.  No,  no ;  it  is  your 
dumb  christians,  that  have  walked  in  fear  and 
darkness,  and  thereby  been  unable  to  bear  a  tes- 

/  itimony  for  God  during  their  lives,  that  he  compels 
to  speak  out  for  him  on  their  death-beds."  The 
observation  of  the  good  man  was  altogether  too 

i:  unqualified.  But  the  prediction,  so  far  as  it  con- 
cerned himself,  was  fulfilled.  »rroff  Tofiiyb 

There   are   christians,  we   may   also    remark, 

who  from  constitutional  timidity,  or  other  causes, 

•have  such  a  deep  abhorrence  of  dissolution  and  of 

'   'the  grave,  that  they  cannot  think  of  dying  with- 

'  out  a  painful  dread.  '' I  am  not  afraid  of  death, 
but  I  shrink  from  dying,"  was  the  oft  repeated 
observation  of  the  venerable  Dr.  Livingston,  when 
he  spoke  of  his  approaching  departure ;  and  many 
a  sincere  believer  has  sympathized  with  him  in 
his  tremulous  apprehension  of  the  struggle,  when 

■  L-soul  and  body  must  be  severed.     It  is  also  true, 


FOURTH      LECTURE.  167 

that  men  eminent  for  their  religion,  have  been  at 

times  so  overwhelmed  with  a  sense  of  their  own 

un worthiness,  when  they  felt  themselves  about  to 

M  appear  in  the  presence  of  the  holy  God,  that  th4 

waves  of  unbelief  have  passed  over  them  in  such 

J    strength  as  to  prevent,  for  a  season,  that  clear  vision 

;    of  the  Redeemer's  pardoning  mercy,  which  in  the 

end  has    soothed  and   cheered    them.     The   well 

5 !  known  Commentator  on  the  Bible,  Thomas  Scott, 

0  r^as  an  instance  of  such  a  conflict  in  his  last  days. 

But  notwithstanding  all  these  considerations, 
the  value  and  the  power  of  testimony  rendered  in  a 
dying  hour,  no  rational  man  will  deny.  Every  im- 
partial observer  must  perceive  that  there  is  a  vast 
difference  between  the  heaviness  that  occasionally 
■  oppresses  the  spirit  of  the  dying  christian,  and  the 
dread  horror  which,  as  we  shall  see,  distracts  and 
overpowers  the  dying  infidel.     We  never  find  the 

1  christian  distressed  either  in  life  or  at  death,  be- 
^    cause  he  has  done  so  much  to  vindicate  and  spread 

his  religion.     On  the  other  hand,  the  burning  re- 
t     morse  of  the  infidel  is  because  of  what  he  has  done 
i     for  the  cause  of  infidelity,  and  of  the  hardened  un- 
belief with  which  he  has  resisted  and  blasphemed 


168  FOURTH      LECTURE. 

•  T  'o  A  .1 

the  Bible  and  the  God  of  the  Bible.    Tell  us,  if  yoii. 

can,  of  a  christian  who  has  died  suffering  anguish 

of  conscience  for  having  clung  to  his  Bible  against 

every  objector,  and  against  every  objection,  and  we 

will  give  up  the  argument.     That,  or  any  thing 

like  it,  as  all  men  know,  never  can  be  shown  ;  and 

if  we  find,  that  in  the  truth-revealing,  truth-telling 

hour  of  death,  the  christian  always  cleaves  to  hi^ 

Biblo  closer  and  closer,  as  his  only  hope,  while  the 

infidel  again  and  again  shrinks  from  his  infidelity, 

and  would  cast  it  from  him  as  the  ruin  of  his  soul ; 

there  is  argument  here  which  no  one  can  gainsay, 

proving  that  the  Bible  is  the  book  for  sinful  man, 

and  faith  in  its  revelations,  alike,  his  duty  an4 

his  safety. 

ill 

The  argument  too  is  impressive  as  it  is  conclu- 

fi 

sive.     "  The  chill  of  the  expiring  man's  hand,"  it 

has  been  said,  "is  remembered   longer  than   the 

warmth  of  his  grasp  when  in  health."     The  heart 

an 
must  be  doubly  hardened  which  can  be  insensible, 

to  the  voice  of  the  dying.     We  could  point  out  in- 

stance  after  instance,  showing  that  the  once  "  dead 

■tua 

in  trespasses  and  in  sins"  have  been  made  aliVe 

ov 

unto  God,  when  contemplating  the  happy  death 


FOURTH     LECTURE.  1C9 

of  the  christian  believer ;  as  the  man  cast  into  the 
sepulchre  of  Elisha,  when  he  •'  touched  the  bones 
of  the  prophet,  revived  and  stood  upon  his  feet." 
The  knowledge  of  these  happy  results  led  Addison 
tb  declare,  that  "in  all  history  there  is  nothing  so 
instructive  as  a  faithful  account  of  the  manner  in 
which  eminent  men  have  met  that  trying  hour  when 
they  passed  from  time  into  eternity."  The  senti- 
ment of  the  polished  scholar  must  have  been  deeply 
impressed  on  the  mind  of  the  faithful  martyr,  Row- 
land Taylor.  When  about  to  suffer,  before  he  was 
tied  to  the  stake,  he  presented  to  his  son,  as  his  last 
gift,  a  volume  containing  the  choice  sayings  of 
those  who  had  been  put  to  death  for  their  faith 
in  Christ,  as  the  best  legacy  he  could  leave  him. 
Few  will  deny  that  this  memorial  of  paternal  affec- 
tion was  wisely  chosen;  and  when  the  weeping 
son  saw  his  father  composed  and  motionless  in  the 
midst  of  the  flames,  with  his  hands  folded,  praying, 
"Merciful  Father,  for  Jesus  Christ  my  Saviours 
sake,  receive  my  soul  into  thy  hands,"  he  had 
another  example  to  insert  in  the  highly  prized 
volume,  showing  how  a  christian  can  die. 

Let  us  now  turn  to  some  of  these  scenes  as  they 


no  POUKTH     LECTURE. 

lie  embalmed  in  the  histories  of  God's  people.  Let 
us  place  the  dying  infidel  and  the  dying  christian 
side  by  side.  Let  us  call  up,  on  the  one  hand,  the 
names  of  men  whom  we  have  seen  to  be  distin- 
guished as  champions  of  infidelity ;  and  on  the 
other,  the  names  of  those  known  as  intelligent  be- 
lievers in  the  Bible,  and  who  adorned  its  doctrines 
in  their  lives;  and  let  us  learn  from  themselves 
what  they  felt  and  avowed  in  the  solemn  hour  of 
death.  r-:r^^-^t'i,.  ...;rh.-7,  ...ft  :-,;K,[:t 

We  have  spoken  of  Hobbes,  and  of  the  massive 
strength  he  employed  against  Christianity.  He 
was  a  man  who  prided  himself  highly  on  his  great 
equanimity  and  self-possession.  And  how  did  he 
meet  his  death?  He  lived  to  the  age  of  about 
ninety  years,  when  a  christian  would  have  felt 
himself  "full  of  days,"  "  desiring  to  depart  and  be 
with  Christ."  But  what  does  the  infidel  philoso- 
pher say  when  he  found  he  could  live  no  longer  ? 
"  I  am  about  to  take  a  leap  in  the  dark,"  he  ex- 
claimed; and  so  dreadful  were  his  apprehensions 
of  what  he  might  find  in  the  darkness  before  him, 
that  he  added,  "Were  I  master  of  the  world,  I 
would  give  it  all  to  live  one  day  longer."     When 


FOURTH     LECTURE.  171;  ^ 

his  friends  expressed  surprise,  telling  him  that  such 
a  confession  was  not  what  they  had  expected  from 
the  Philosopher  of  Malmesbmy,  as  he  loved  to  be 
called  ;  he  replied  in  the  bitterness  of  his  heart, 
"  What  shall  I  be  the  better  for  all  that  when  1 
am  dead  ?  I  say  again,  if  I  had  the  whole  world 
to  dispose  of,  I  would  give  it  all  to  live  a  single 
day  longer."  But  that  single  day  was  denied  him, 
and  he  was  forced  to  take  his  "  leap  in  the  dark," 
though  it  was  the  darkness  of  torturing  despair. 

With  this  dread  of  death,  and  consuming  anxie- 
ty to  escape  from  it  even  for  a  day,  let  us  compare 
the  dying  sentiments  of  one  or  two  well  known  as 
preachers  of  the  gospel  and  ornaments  of  theii*  pro- 
fession. James  Hervey  will  always  be  held  in 
grateful  remembrance  by  f.he  Christian  church  for 
the  purity  and  benevolence  of  his  character  and 
the  value  of  his  writings.  He  died  at  the  age  of 
forty.four,  when  no  weight  of  years  rendered  him 
weary  of  the  world,  and  when  every  tribute  of  re- 
spect and  affection  was  paid  to  him  by  thousands 
who  had  shared  in  his  generosity,  and  been  edified 
by  his  labors.  When  he  saw  his  death  approach- 
ing, far  from  desiring  to  stay  in  this  world  another 


tii 


FOUKTH     LECTURE 


day  or  even  hour,  he  exclaimed,  "How  thankful 
airi  I  for  death !  It  is  the  passage  to  the  Lord  and 
giver  of  eternal  life.  0  welcome,  welcome,  Death  I 
-Thou  may  est  well  be  reckoned  among  the  trea- 
sures of  the  Christian ;  *  to  live  is  Christ,  to  die  is 
gain !'  *  Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart 
iti  peace,  for  mine  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation.' " 
To  these  exulting  views  let  me  add  the  triumphs 
of  the  seraphic  Payson.  He  also  died  in  what  is 
usiially  called  the  prime  of  life ;  and  was  surround- 
ed by  a  family,  and  by  fruits  of  his  ministry,  who 
had  every  desire  to  strew  his  path  with  flowers,  had 
his  stay  on  earth  been  prolonged.  And  yet,  with 
all  these  attractions  around  him  to  render  future 
days  desirable,  he  blessed  Grod  on  his  death  bed 
that  the  hour  of  his  departure  had  come.  When 
he' was  asked,  "  Do  you  feel  reconciled  ?"  he  replied, 
"Oh,  that  is  too  cold.  I  rejoice,  I  triumph,  and  this 
happiness  will  endure  as  long  as  God  himself,  for 
it  consists  in  admiring  and  adoring  him.  I  can 
find  no  words  to  express  my  happiness.  I  seem  to 
be  swimming  in  a  river  of  pleasure,  which  is  car- 
rying me  on  to  the  great  fountain.  ^  ^  ^ 
Hitherto  I  have  viewed  God  as  a  fixed  star,  bright 


FOURTH     LECTURE.  ilT3 

indeed,  but  often  intercepted  by  clouds;  but  now 
He  is  coming  nearer  and  nearer,  and  spreads  into 
a  sun,  so  vast  and  glorious,  that  the  sight  is  too 
dazzling  for  flesh  and  blood  to  sustain.  I  see,  I  see 
clearly  that  all  these  same  glorious  and  dazzling 
perfoctions,  which  now  only  serve  to  kindle  my 
affections  into  a  flame,  and  to  melt  down  my  soul 
into  the  same  blessed  image,  would  burn  and 
scorch  me  like  a  consuming  fire,  if  I  were  an  im- 
penitent sinner."  At  a  later  hour,  and  when  he 
saw  dissolution  nearer  at  hand,  he  exclaimed, 
**  The  celestial  city  is  now  full  in  my  view.  Its 
glories  beam  upon  me — its  sounds  strike  upon  my 
ears,  and  its  spirit  is  breathed  into  my  heart. 
Nothing  separates  me  from  it  but  the  river  of 
death,  and  that  appears  but  an  insignificant  rill, 
that  may  be  crossed  by  a  single  step,  whenever 
God  shall  give  permission."  ^  i. 

With  such  glowing  words  upon  their  lips,  did 
these  eminent  saints  pass  away  from  our  world, 
seeming,  like  Elijah,  to  be  wrapped  into  heaven  in 
chariots  of  fire;  and  the  striking  contrast  which 
we  find  between  Hervey  and  Payson  rejoicing  in 

death,  and  Hobbes  willing  to  give  a  whole  world 

11 


^,IT4  FOURTH     LECTURE. 

if  h©  could  escape  from  it  a  single  day  longer,  has 
led  Die  to  place  theiv  aames  in  immediate  proximi- 
ty to  each  otheii^':'    "  V,,.,;, 

e:     But  we  do  not  here  close  our  recital  of  exam- 
fcples  that  will  serve  still   further   to   enforce  our 
Tf^rgument.     Let  us  then  turn  back  from  Hervey 
.and|,  Payson,  to  other  scenes  which,  although  they 
may  he  less  attractive,  are  still  fearfully  instructive. 
(T.      What  might  have  been  the  feelings  of  Gibbon, 
^had  he  known  death  to  be  near  to  him,  it  is  im- 
possible to  say.     His  biographers  show  us  that  he 
passed  away  into  eternity  without  being  conscious 
that   he   was   even   approaching   it.     They  relate 
that  within  twenty  hours  before  he  expired,  he  de- 
clared that  he  "thought  himself  a  good  life  for  ten, 
twelve,  or  perhaps  twenty  years ;"  nor  does  it  ap- 
pear that  he  was  undeceived  till  speech  had  failed 
himj  and  his  faculties  were  overpowered   by  the 
stupor  of  disease. 

But  while  we  must  leave  Gibbon  to  die  blind- 
folded as  to  what  lay  before  him ;  and  we  must 
fear,  to  utter  his  wail  of  agony  and  despair,  whew 
jibeyond  that  bourne  whence  no  voice  ever  comes 
J)ack  to  the  human  ear ;  we  can  turn  to  one  whom 


FOURTH     LECTURE.  ^It^l 

he  has  called  "the  most  extraordinary  man  of  the 
age,"  the  far  famed  Voltaire;  and  in  him  we  wit- 
ness  horrors  that  might  well  suffice  for  hoth.  He 
saw  death  coming,  and  felt  the  icy  hand  of  the 
destroyer,  when  day  after  day,  it  crept  up  to  his 
heart ;  and  his  death  bed  was  a  scene  so  appalling 
that  it  has  few  parallels  in  those  pictures  of  re- 
morse that  startle  and  shock  us  while  we  survey 
them.  As  we  have  already  stated,  in  his  coarse 
and  virulent  attacks  on  Christianity,  his  favorite 
and  oil  repeated  expression,  when  speaking  of  the 
Redeemer,  wa^s,  "  Crush  the  wretch."  No  wonder 
that  in  his  last  hours,  he  himself  should  seem 
crushed  beneath  the  weight  of  the  divine  displea- 
sure, as  a  reptile  in  the  highway  lies  writhing 
under  the  chariot  wheel  that  has  rolled  over  it. 
We  well  know  the  pains  that  have  been  taken  by 
his  infidel  companions  to  hide  from  the  world  the 
agony  of  the  dying  man ;  but  truth  has  been^  too 
strong  for  them.  There  could  be  no  excuse  for 
shutting  out  the  physician  from  the  chamber  of 
sickness  and  death ;  and  he  was  too  honest  to  con- 
ceal what  he  knew,  and  too  universally  respected 
for  his  integrity  and  intelligence,  not  to  be  behoved. 


176  FOURTH      LECTURE. 

It  was  on  Voltaire's  last  visit  to  Paris,  when  at 
file  zenith  of  his  fame,  and  when,  as  previously  ap- 
pointed, he  was  publicly  crowned  at  the  theatre  as 
the  idol  of  France,  that  he  was  taken  with  a  he- 
morrhage that  terminated  his  life.     He  was  thus 
brought  into  a  startling  resemblance  to  Herod,  wh6, 
as  we  are  told,  "upon  a  set  day,  arrayed  in  royal 
'apparel,  sat  upon  his  throne  and  made  an  oratioh 
to  the  people.     And  they  gave  a  shout  saying.  It 
IS  the  voice  of  a  God,  and  not  of  a  man.     And  Ini- 
'  mediately  the  angel  of  the  Lord  smote  him,  because 
"fee  gave  not  God  the  glory."     No  sooner  had  Vol- 
i^ird  felt  the  stroke,  which  he  was  aware  niust 
issue  in  death,  than  he  was  overpowered  with  xe- 
morse.    He  at  once  sent  most  earnest  messages  fot  a 
priest,  that  he  might  be  "  reconciled  to  the  churcli;^' 
4s  the  phrase  is;  make  confession  of  his  siti^,  and 
^ask  pardon  of  God  and  man  for  his  scandalous  at- 
tacks on   Christianity.     Diderot,  Marmontel,  Coi- 
(lorcet,  and  others  of  his  infidel  flatterers  hast^iii^d 
'fe  his  chamber  to  prevent  a  recantation,  which  they 
feared;  but  it  was  only  to  witness  his  ignominy  and 
''their  own.     He  cursed  them  to  their  faces ;  and  as 
Ms  distress  of  mind  was  aggravated  by  their  pre- 


an 

FOURTH      LECTURE.  177 

eenx5e,  he  repeatedly  and  loudly  exclaimed  to  theii]^, 
",!^egone;  it  is  you  who  have  brought  me  to  my 
present  condition.  Leave  me  I  say,  begone.  What 
a  wretched  glory  is  this  which  you  have  produced 
to  me !"  Hoping  to  allay  his  anguish  by  a  writtep 
renunciation  of  his  infidelity,  he  had  it  prepared, 
signed  it,  and  saw  it  witnessed,  that  its  truth  and 
authenticity  might  be  put  beyond  question.  But 
all  such  expedients  were  unavailing  to  bring  relief. 
During  the  two  months  of  life  tliat  followed,  he  was 
tortured  with  an  agony  of  mind  that  sometimes 
led  him  to  gnash  his  teeth  in  impotent  rage  against 
both  God  and  man ;  and  at  other  times,  in  plain- 
tive accents,  he  would  plead  "Oh,  Christ!  Oh,  Lord 
Jesus !"  and  then  turning  away  his  face,  he  would 
cry  out  that  he  must  die,  abandoned  of  God  and 
man.  As  his  end  approached,  his  condition  bec£^me 
more  and  more  frightful,  so  that  his  infidel  associ- 
ates were  reluctant  to  approach  the  bed  of  the  dy- 
ing blasphemer,  while  they  strove  to  guard  the  doai 
against  the  entrance  of  those  who  might  beconjje 
fresh  witnesses  of  the  revolting  tragedy.  Ev^i 
his  nurse  repeatedly  exclaimed,  that  "for  all  the 
wealth  of  Europe,  she  would  never  see  another  in-r 


IT8  FdURTH     LECTuilEf 

fidel  die;"  and  his  physician,  scarcely  able  to  eii- 
diire  the  sight  during  his  brief  visits,  declared  tliai^ 
th^  torments  of  Orestes  by  the  fabled  Furies,  woiiW' 
give  but  a  faint  idea  of  Voltaire's  agony ;  and  thai 
he  ardently  wished  tlidse  tvho  had  been  perverted 
by  the  infidel's  writings  could  have  been  present  at 
his  death,  when  they  could  not  have  failed  to  find 
an  antidote  to  the  poison.  Such  was  the  well-at- 
tested end  of  Voltaire.  It  was  a  scene  of  horror 
that  lies  beyond  exaggeration,  for  those  who  saw 
niost  of  it,  all  agree  that  words  are  not  adequate  to 
describe  it. 
'^  *  Let  us  now  turn  to  another  example  of  a  dying 

iiifidel  different  in  many  things  from  that  we  have' 

i 

A 


}\jisi  contempl  ated,  but   not  the   less  revolting  to 


every  sentiment  of  truth  and  honesty.  I  have' 
always  considered  the  death  of  Hume  as  described 
by  Adam  Smith,  i^r.'IBlack  and  others,  to  be  a 
scene  of  the  most  flimsy  hypocrisy  to  be  found  on 
record.  'kiH  obvious  that  Hume's  friends,  like  those 

of  Voltaire,  were  anxious  that  he  should  evince  no 

/••■•■  ■    'ill 

si^iii.  of  misgiving  or  fear,  and  should  persis-t  in  his 

infidelity  to  the  last.     But  both  he  and  they  over-  ' 

acted  so  far  in  the  matter,  as  to  betrav  themselves. 


FOURTH      LECTURE.  179, 

They  tell  us  of  his  great  composure ;  of  his  utter  ^ 
unconcern  as  he  sat  with  them  at  the  card-table,, 
knowing  himself  to  be, on  the  brink  of  the  grave;, 
hpy^  he  could  repeat  the  silly  jests  which  he  mighty 
h^ve  with  Charon,  the  boatman  sent  accojr^ding^  to^ 
the  fables  of  Paganism,  to  carry  the  dead  across  (the . 
river  which  was  said  to  divide  this  world  from  the , 
world  of  spirits.  ^^^^  ^^ 

Pitiful  gossamer  covering  of  what  was  going  on 
in  the  breast  of  the  dying  man !     Fallen  as  ,ppor  ^ 
human  nature  is,  she  is  not  §o  far  sunk  as  this; 
she  is  neither  so  blinded  or  hardened.     She  has,^ 
sympathies  that  tell  of.  something  better,  was  it 
merely   friend   parting  with   friend,  for  a  period,^ 
they  know  not  how  long,  and  to  encounter,  they 
know  not  what.     Let  us  suppose  it  to  be  Park  or^ 
Led  yard,  surrounded  with  friends  to  whom  they 
were  bidding  adieu,  when  about  to  depart  for  their , 
travels  in  the  deadly  wilds  of  Africa,  and  from 
which  it  was  doubtful  whether  they  would  .'Oy^i: 
return.     Had  they  been  found  up  to  the  hour /O^ 
their  departure,  courting  some  idle  laugh  over  the^ 
gambling  table,  conversing,  in  silly  jests,  with  thos0. 
they  had  cherished  as  their  best  friends,  every  one 


180  FOURTH      LECTURE. 

would  have  pronounced  it  an  affectation  so  un  natu- 
ral as  to  be  even  indecent.  ^  And  what  is  death, 
taking  it  even  as  Hume  viewed  it  ?  It  is  a  seve- 
rance, perhaps  forever,  from  scenes  and  friends  where 
all  our  enjoyments  have  rested  during  life ;  it  is  to 
embark  on  a  dark  sea  that  is  to  bear  us  to  a  shore 
where  all  is  strange,  untried  and  unknown,  and 
from  which  we  are  never  to  return.  Suppose,  if 
you  will,  that  this  is  death,  and  that  it  leads  to 
nothing  more.  Is  it  an  occasion  on  which  a  dying 
man,  whose  heart  has  ever  felt  the  ties  of  fellow- 
ship with  kindred,  or  kindred  spirits,  would  be 
found  laughing  and  trifling  if  he  does  justice  to  the 
feelings  of  his  own  heart?  Never.  It  reminds 
us  of  the  expedient  of  the  school-boy,  who  on  his 
way  through  the  church-yard  "  whistled  aloud  to 
keep  his  courage  up,"  In  a  sober  and  rational 
view  of  it,  it  can  be  notl.iing  but  affectation,  a 
mask  to  liide  something  within  very  different  from 
the  frolicsome  manner  played  without.  I  may  ap^ 
peal  to  every  one,  young  and  old,  learned  and  un- 
learned, if  it  is  not  equally  against  nature  and 
philosophy,  to  view  death  as  a  frolic,  to  go  to  it  as 
we  would  go  to  a  frolic,  and  as  Hume  wished  to 


FOURTH     LECTURE.  181 

have  it  believed  that  he  went  to  his.  No  man  ever 
did  such  a  thing  honestly.  He  would  have  first  to 
obliterate  every  feature  of  his  own  humanity,  before 
he  could  find  it  possible.  He  may  act  such  a  part ; 
but  it  is  only  acting,  and  the  acting,  awkwardly 
performed. 

But  we  do  not  so  quit  the  subject.  The  dying 
man,  with  all  his  philosophy,  was  not  able  to  weai 
the  mask  without  throwing  it  aside,  at  least,  occa- 
sionally. Affectation  is  always  a  tiresome  task, 
and  especially  must  it  be  so  to  the  dying.  And 
although  Hume  during  his  last  days  may  ha^re 
persisted  in  acting  the  part  of  a  trifler  when  in  the 
presence  of  his  infidel  companions;  there  were 
others  who  were  habitually  near  him,  and  before 
whom  the  pangs  of  his  constrained  and  violated 
conscience  made  themselves  awfully  plain,-  and 
brought  his  death  bed  into  a  fearful  resemblance  to 
that  of  the  wretched  Voltaire.  In  the  hour  of  mid- 
night, and  when,  as  the  uncomforted  sufferer  ima- 
gined, no  witness  was  near  who  would  tell  tiip 
mortifying  tale,  he  became  a  different  and  mojfe 
honest  man.  He  was  then,  as  we  are  told,  kt 
times  so  convulsed  with  remorse  and  fear,  that  ^his 


182  FOURTH     LECTURE. 

trembling  frame  caused  the  very  bed  beneath  him 
to  shake;  his  moans  of  mental  distress  became  so 
appalling  as  to  render  it  painful  for  his  attendants 
to  remain  near  him,  and  yet  his  dread  of  being 
alone  was  so  great  that  he  would  not  allow  their 
absence  for  a  moment.  The  evidence  of  this  agony 
in  the  last  hours  of  Hume  is  from  those  who  had 
no  object  of  their  own  to  gain  by  giving  it,  and 
who  are  said  never  to  have  disclosed  the  harrow- 
ing scenes  till  impelled  to  it  by  a  sense  of  what 
they  owed  to  truth.  When  the  statement  was  first 
given  to  the  public,  the  friends  of  the  infidel  phi- 
losopher were  challenged  to  contradict  it,  if  it  was 
not  true.  They  wisely,  it  seems,  remained  silent 
on  the  subject.  .i,HJ  ,fcj>ii  4oui  oiiJ 

jo'tjiil  have  dwelt  the  longer  on  the  death  of  such 
men  as  Yoltaire  and  Hume,  because  of  their  con- 
spicuous place  in  the  ranks  of  infidelity.     I  will 

.ttiow  refer  to  one  or  two  other  names,  which,  if  less 

okotorious  for  their  writings  and  labors  against 
Christianity,  have  still  repudiated  her  claims. 

b;K]fMThe  famous  Talleyrand  was  once  a  bishop  in 

'the  Catholic  church,  and  then  an  open  contemner 

of  religion  in  all   its  forms,  seeking  office,  power 


FOURTH     LECTURE.  183 

and  wealth  under  every  change  of  government  in  his 

country,  betraying  it  is  said,  all  of  them  in  their  turn. 
c'  i  On  the  day  before  his  death  he  v^rrote  the  hu- 
^miliating  confession,  "Behold,  eighty -three  years 

have  passed  away!  What  cares!  What  agitations! 
,  What  anxieties !  What  ill  will !  What  sad  coinplioa- 
i'tions!  and  all  without  other  results,  except  great 
'  fatigue  of  body  and  mind,  a  profound  sentiment  of 

discouragement  for  the  future,  and  disgust  for  the 

past !"     Such  was  the  deep  and  unrelieved  gloom 

which  settled  down  on  the  mind  of  this  powerful 

man  during  his  last  hours  on  earth. 

The  following  painful  instance  shows  that  the 
dvpains  of  the  second  death  are  sometimes  felt  before 

the  first  has  taken  place.  To  the  dread  of  appear- 
liing  before  the  bar  of  God,  and  receiving  judgment 

at  his  hands,  is  superadded  a  foretaste  of  the  suffer- 
ings hereafter  to  be  endured,  which  renders  the 
g  dying  unbeliever  a  fearful  witness  against  himself. 
iJEnif  Sir  Francis  Newport  was  trained  in  early  life 

to  understand  the  great  truths  of  the  gospel ;  and 
n while  he  was  yet  in  early  manhood,  it  was  hoped 
T  that  he  would  become  an  ornament  and  a  blessing 
.:to  his  family  and  nation.  The  result  was  far  other- 


184  FOURTH      LECTURE. 

wise.  After  he  arrived  at  mature  years  he  fell 
into  company  that  corrupted  both  his  principles 
and  his  morals.  He  became  an  avowed  infidel, 
and  a  life  of  dissipation  soon  brought  on  a  disease 
which  was  pronounced  incurable.  When  he  felt 
that  he  must  die,  he  threw  himself  upon  his  bed, 
and  after  a  brief  pause,  broke  out  in  the  language, 
"  Whence  this  war  in  my  heart  ?  What  argument 
is  there  now  to  assist  me  against  matter  of  fact  ? 
Do  I  assert  that  there  is  no  hell,  while  I  feel  onei 

in  my  own  bosom  ?     Am  I  certain  there  is  no  after 

■  ■.'•! 
retribution,  when  I  feel  a  present  judgment?     Do 

I  affirm  my  soul  to  be  as  mortal  as  my  body,  Wlien 
this  languishes,  and  that  is  vigorous  as  ever  ?  O 
that  any  one  could  restore  to  me  my  ancient  guard 
of  piety  and  innocence !  Wretch  that  I  am,  whither 
shall  I  fly  from  this  breast  ?  What  will  become  of 
me?"  Among  his  infidel  companions  was  one 
who  tried  to  dispel  these  thoughts,  to  whom  he  re- 
plied, "  That  there  is  a  God,  I  know,  because  I 
continually  feel  the  effects  of  his  wrath ;  that  thero 
is  a  hell,  1  am  equally  certain,  having  received  ah 
earnest  of  my  inheritance  there  already  in  my 
breast :  that  there  is  a  natural  conscience,  I  now' 


FOURTH      LECTURE.  i85 

feel  with  horror  and  amazement,  heing  continually 
upbraided  by  it  with  my  impieties,  and  all  my 
sir^s  brought  to  my  remembrance.  Why  God  has 
marked  me  out  for  an  example  of  his  vengeance, 
rather  than  you,  or  any  other  of  our  acquaintance, 
I  presume  is  because  I  have  been  more  religiously 
educated,  and  have  done  greater  despite  to  the 
Spirit  of  Grace.  Oh  that  I  was  to  lie  upon  the 
fire  that  never  is  quenched  a  thousand  years,  to 
purchase  the  favor  of  God  and  be  reconciled  to  Him 
again !  But  it  is  a  fruitless  wish ;  millions  of  mil- 
lions pf  years  will  bring  me  no  nearer  to  the  end 
of  my  torments  than  one  poor  hour.  0  eternity ! 
eternity !  Who  can  discover  the  abyss  of  eternity ! 
Who  can  paraphrase  upon  these  words,  forever 
and  ever  .^" 

.  Suspecting  that  his  family  and  friends  might 
impute  his  agony  of  mind  to  insanity,  he  told  them, 
"You  imagine  me  melancholy  or  distracted.  1 
yish  I  were  either ;  but  it  is  part  of  my  judgment 
that  I  am  not.  No ;  my  apprehension  of  persons 
and  things  is  more  quick  and  vigorous  than  it  was 
when  I  was  in  perfect  health ;  and  it  is  my  curse, 
because  I  am  thereby  more  sensible  of  the  con- 


186  FOURTH     LECTURE. 

dition  I  am  fallen  into.  "Would  you  be  informed 
why  I  am  become  a  skeleton  in  three  or  four  days  ? 
See  now  then,  I  have  despised  my  Maker,  and 
denied  my  Redeemer ;  I  have  joined  myself  to  the 
atheists  and  profane,  and  continued  their  coarse 
under  many  convictions,  till  my  iniquity  was  ripe 
for  vengeance,  and  the  just  judgment  of  God  over- 
took me  when  my  security  was  the  greatest,  and^ 
the  checks  of  my  conscience  were  the  least." 

Mental  distress  like  this,  conspiring  with  bodily 
disease,  his  life  wasted  away  rapidly;  and  when 
his  end  was  seen  to  be  near,  and  he  was  asked  if 
he  would   have  prayer  offered  on  his  behalf,  he^ 
turned  away  his  face  and  exclaimed,  "  Tigers  and' 
monsters,  are  ye  also  become  devils  to  torment  me  ? ' 
Would  ye  give  me  prospect  of  heaven,  to  make  my 
hell  more  intolerable  ?" 

Soon  after,  his  voice   failing,  and   uttering  a 
groan  of  inexpressible    horror,  he  cried  out,   "0 
the  insufferable  pangs  of  hell !"    And  with  these  last 
words  upon  his  lips,  he  expired  and  passed  into- 
eternity. 

Let  us  now  drop  the  curtain.     "We  have  seen 
enough,  full    enough  to  show  us  how  dark  and 


FOURTH     LECTURE.  187 

hopeless  is  the  death  bed  of  the  infidel.  Let  us 
turn  to  other  scenes ;  let  us  see  the  christian  in  the 
hour  of  death,  and  learn  what  his  faith  in  Christ 
does  for  him  when  he  dies.  ' 
r^^.Yon  have  all  heard  of  the  venerable  Bede.  He 
deserved  the  title.  He  was  venerated  for  his  learn- 
ing, for  the  purity  of  his  life,  though  living  in  a 
dark  and  corrupt  age ;  and  also,  for  the  confidence 
of  his  faith  in  the  promises  of  the  gospel.  I  refer 
to  him,  though  he  lived  at  a  remote  period  in  the 
history  of  the  church,  not  only  because  his  death 
was  triumphant,  but  because  his  last  days  and  his 
last  labors  were  spent  in  preparing  a  translation  of 
St.  John's  Gospel  into  the  Saxon  language.  When 
death  was  first  seen  to  be  at  hand,  the  venera- 
ble saint  was  engaged  in  his  favorite  work ;  and 
when  he  felt  that  he  had  but  a  day  or  two  at  most 
to  live,  he  went  on,  sometimes  dictating  the  trans- 
lation to  those  who  wrote  for  him ;  at  other  times 
refreshing  his  spirit  and  recruiting  his  strength  by 
singing  anthems  of  praise  to  God  and  the  Lamb ; 
and  then,  as  he  addressed  his  remaining  energies 
to  the  yet  unfinished  task,  he  would  urge,  "  Make 
haste.    Write  speedily.    The  moments  are  precious. 


188  FOURTH     LECTURE. 

C.'l  ■  : 

My  master  may  call  me  before  the  lapse  of  another 
hour.'*    On  one  of  these  occasions  he  was  told  there 

■it^as  yet  but  one  chapter  wanting,  and  was  asked 
if  it  wearied  him  too  much  to  proceed  any  farther. 
He  replied,  "  I  cannot  be  weary  of  my  Master's 

%ork,  while  I  have  life  to  work  for  him ;  but  write 
speedily,  speedily,  for  my  hour  of  leaving  you  is 
very  near."  When  told  that  the  work  was  done, 
summoning  his  last  strength,  he  exclaimed,  "  And 
is  it  now  done?  I  bless  the  Lord  that  I  have 
lived  to  do  it.  And  now  what  wait  I  for ;  all 
is  now  finished.  I  desire  to  depart  and  be  with 
Christ.  I  desire  to  see  Christ,  my  King,  in  his 
beauty,  as  he  is,  and  where  he  is.  Glory  be  to  the 
Father  and  to  the  Son  and  to  the  Holy  Ghost;" 
and  then  expired  with  the  doxology  still  linger- 
ing on  his  lips. 

Among  the  Reformers  of  the  church,  as  they 
are  usually  called,  I  might  select  many  names 
well  known  for  their  zealous  labors,  their  extensive 
!^ki*hilig  aild  their  Christian  example.  When  Johi^ 
Hlii^s,  sometimes  called,  *'  the  morning  star  of  the 
Reformation,"  felt  the  chain  which  was  to  bind 
him  to  the  stake,  placed  on  his  neck,  he  exclaimed 


FOURTH      LECTURE.  189 

with  a  smile,  "Welcome  this  chain  for  Christ's 
sake ;"  and  when  the  faggots  liad  been  piled  up 
around  him,  and  he  was  asked  to  *' abjure"  before 
they  should  be  kindled  into  a  flame,  he  replied, 
"  No,  no ;  I  take  God  to  witness  I  preach  none  but 
his  own  pure  doctrines ;  and  what  I  have  taught, 
I  am  ready  to  seal  with  my  blood."  The  last 
words  Luther  wiis  heard  to  utter  were,  "  Into  thy 
hands  I  commend  my  spirit.  Thou  hast  redeemed 
me,  0  Lord  God  of  truth."  Melancthon,  when 
about  to  die,  was  asked  by  his  friends  if  he  wanted 
anything ;  and  ho  replied,  "  I  want  nothing,  and 
I  am  looking  for  nothing  but  Heaven ;"  and  then 
gently  fell  asleep  in  Christ.  Ridley  and  Latimer, 
as  is  well  known,  suffered  martyrdom  at  the  same 
time.  When  they  were  tied  to  the  stake,  Ridley 
exclaimed,  "  Be  of  good  heart,  dear  brother,  for  our 
God  will  either  assuage  this  flame,  or  enable  us  to 
abide  it."  And  Latimer  replied,  "  Dear  brother,  let 
us  rejoice  and  be  glad ;  for  we  shall  this  day  help 
to  light  such  a  candle  in  England,  as,  by  God's 
grace,  shall  never  be  put  out." 

When  the  flames  of  such  martyrdoms  had  ceas- 
ed to  burn,  the  mantle  of  these  holy  men  of  God, 

12 


190  FOURTH      LECTURE. 

dying  in  such  triumph  over  death,  has  ever  since 
been  seen  to  rest  on  christians  "  of  like  precious 

tfaith  "  with  themselves,  and  that  without  distinc- 

ftion  of  name  or  sect.  Bishop  Jewel  was  called 
away  at  a  comparatively  early  age,  when  he  was 
*'  in  labors  more  abundant,"  as  he  had  been  "  in 
deaths  oft  ;'*  and  he  died  with  the  impressive  testi- 
mony, "  I  have  not  so  lived  that  I  am  ashamed 
to  live  longer ;  neither  do  I  fear  to  die,  because  I 
have  a  merciful  God.  A  crown  of  righteousness 
is  laid  up  for  me ;  Christ  is  my  righteousness. 
Father,  let  thy  will  be  done;  thy  will,  I  say,  and 
not  my  will.  0  Lord,  confound  me  not.  Now 
let  thy  servant  depart  in  peace.  Suffer  him  to 
come  to  thee.  Command  him  to  be  with  thee. 
Lord  Jesus,  receive  my  spirit." 

V  Dr.  Goodwin,  an  eminent  Puritan  Divine,  ex- 
claimed in  his  last  hour,  "Is  this  dying?     Is  this 

iwhat  for  so  many  years  I  have  been  dreading? 

fOh,  how  precious  does  the   righteousness  of  the 

c  Saviour  now  appear !  My  bow  abides  in  strength. 

^I  am  robed  in  his  righteousness.  I  am  found  i«i 
Him  who  loved  me  and  gave  himself  for  me.  I 
am  swallowed  up  in  God." 


FOURTH      LECTURE.  (%SA 

When  John  Tennent  was  about  to  leave  the 
world,  with  a  peace  and  gladness  which  are  said 
to  have  lighted  up  his  face  with  a  lustre  like  that 
of  Stephen,  the  first  martyr,  he  took  his  beloved 
brother  by  the  hand,  saying,  "  Farewell,  dear  broth- 
er ;  farewell  all  that  belongs  to  earth  and  time. 
Welcome  my  God  and  Father.  Welcome  sweet 
Lord  Jesus.  Welcome  death.  Welcome  eternity. 
Amen,"  Then  with  a  low  voice,  he  seemed  to 
whisper,  "  Come  Lord  Jesus.  Lord  Jesus,  come 
quickly." 

From  those  of  our  own  times  I  might  tell  of 
Gordon  Hall,  expiring  in  the  verandah  of  a  heathen 
temple,  far  away  from  his  native  land,  exclaiming, 
"  Glory  to  thee,  0  God,"  and  repeating  the  word, 
again  and  again,  till  his  breath  ceased.  I  might 
name  the  calm  and  sober-minded  Evarts,  bursting 
forth  at  his  death  in  the  exclamation,  "  Wonderful, 
wonderful  glory!  We  cannot  comprehend  such 
wonderful  glory.  I  will  praise  him,  I  will  praise 
him."  I  might  also  repeat  the  brief  farewell  of  the 
lamented  Brown,  to  our  world,  when  he  declared, 
"All  is  well.     My  work  is  now  done.     I  have  no- 

jV/ollii 


V]fc?2  FOURTH      LECTURE. 

thing  before  me  but  to  die  and  go  home  to  my  Fa- 
ther's house."  'iitnwjjJi  .ni-ii 
H       But  in  order  to  confine  this  lecture  within  rea- 
sonable limits,  I  will  conclude  my  selection  from 
,  $he  constellation  which  shines  so  brightly  over  our 
[ijark  world,  perhaps  I  should  say  that  shines  so 
7|)rightly  over  the  dark  grave,  by  referring  you  oniy 
to  the  following  illustrious  examples.  t^^oi 
The  first  shall  be  that  of  a  man  who  is  well 
known  as  an  able  writer,  a  wise  statesman,  and 
;j  the  enlightened  philanthropist.     "  Come  sit  near 
me"  said  the  dying  Wilberforce  to  one  he  loved 
most  tenderly ;  "  Come  sit  near  me.     Let  me  lean 
'  on  you.     Grod,  bless  you,  my  dear.     We  shall  walk 
no  further  through  this  world  together;  but  I  hope 
rwe  shall  meet  in  heaven.     Let  us  talk  of  heaven. 

iJOq  not  weep  for  me,  dear  F ;  do  not  weep,  for 

ll  a,m  very  happy.  But  think  of  me;  and  let  the 
thought  make  you  press  forward.  I  never  knew 
j^happiness  till  I  found-  0hrist  as  a  Saviour.  Read 
the  Bible — read  the  Bible  !  Let  no  religious  book 
,>'^ke  its  place.  Through  all  my  perplexities  and 
^fdistresses,  I  never  read  any  other  book,  and  I  never 
ni^iiew  the  want  of  any  other.     It  has  been  my 


FOURTH      L  E  C^  U  It't .  1^ 

hourly  study ;  and  all  my  knowledge  of  the  do6- 
trines,  and  all  my  acquaintance  with  the  expeiS- 
ence  and  realities  of  religion,  have  been  derived 
from  the  Bible  only.  I  think  religious  people  do 
■  not  read  the  Bible  enough.  Books  about  religion 
may  be  useful  enough,  but  they  will  not  do  instead 
of  the  simple  truth  of  the  Bible."  Alluding  io  the 
regret  usually  felt  at  parting  -with  friends,  "No- 
thing," said  he,  "convinces  me  more  of  the  re- 
ality of  the  change  within  me,  than  the  feelings 
with  which  I  can  contemplate  a  separation  from 
my  family.  I  now  feel  so  weaned  from  earth,  my 
affections  so  much  in  heaven,  that  I  can  leave  you 
all  without  regret ;  yet  I  do  not  love  you  less,  but 
God  more."  ^^uoidi 

Among  the  valued  friends  of  Wilber force  was  a 
lady  whose  name  has  become  a  household  word 
among  all  classes  of  the  intelligent  and  the  good, 
who  lived  to  the  advanced  age  of  more  than  four- 
score years,  and  during  that  long  life  was  held  in 
highest  honor  by  those  of  her  day  who  were  dis- 
tinguished for  rank  and  learning.  I  mean  the  gift- 
ed Hannah  More.  When  she  was  drawing  nigh 
to  her  latter  end,  the   Bible,  and   especially  the 


194  FOURTH      LECTURE. 

Psalms,  were  her  constant  delight;  when  her 
stiengch  was  exhausted  by  her  severe  pains,  she 
seemea  refreshed  by  hearing  them  read  to  her,  ex- 
claiming frequently  as  she  listened,  "  How  beauti- 
ftu'l  How  sweet!  How  reviving  !"  When  pressed 
down  to  the  verge  of  the  grave  by  her  disease,  she 
exclaimed,  "What  can  I  do;  rather  let  mo  say, 
what  can  I  not  do  with  Christ  ?  I  know  that  my 
Redeemer  liveth.  Happy,  happy  are  those  who 
expect  to  be  together  in  a  better  world.  The 
thought  of  that  world  lifts  the  mind  above  itself. 

r 

To  go  to  heaven — think  what  that  is.    To  go  to' 
my  Saviour  who  died  that  I  might  live.     0  glori- 
ous grave!     My  God,  my  God,  I  bless  thy  holy 
name.     Lord,  I  believe,  I  do  believe  with  all  the' 
powers  of  my  weak,  sinful  heart.    Lord  Jesus,  look 
down  upon  me  from  thy  holy  habitation.     Support  ' 
main  the  trying  hour  before  me,  when  most  I  shall 
need  it.     It  is  a  glorious  thing  to  die.     0  the  love' 
of  Christ ;  the  love  of  Christ !" 

*  Let  me  next  advert  to  one  who  was  famed  for^ 
talents  of  an  order  peculiar  to  himself.     The  semi-^ 
fabulous  story  of  a  mysterious  stranger,  requiring 
Mozart  to  compose  a  requiem  for  himself  as  his "' 


POUKTH      LECTURE.  195j 

last  work,   is  well  known  to  those  who   are  ac- 
quainted with  his  history  and  his  music.     In  the 
touching  language  of  his  biographer  we  are  told 
that  when  the  piece  was  completed,   *' He  threw  > 
[^imself  hack  on  his  couch  faint  and  exhausted,  i 
His   countenance   was   pale   and   emaciated;    yet 
there  was  a  strange  fire  in  his  eye,  and  the  light; 
of  gratified  joy  on  his  brow  that  told  of  success,^ 
His  task  was  finished,  and  the  melody,  even  to  his 
exquisite  sensibility,  was  perfect.     It  had  occupied 
him  for  weeks;  and  though  his  form  was  wasted  , 
by  disease,  yet  the  spirit  seemed  to  acquire  more 
vigor,  and  already  claim  kindred  to  immortality — 
for  oft  as  the  sound  of  his  own  composition  stole 
on  his  ear,  it  bore  an  unearthly  sweetness  that  was  4 
to  him,  too  truly  a  warning  of  his  future  and  fast  ; 
coming  doom.     Now  it  was  finished,  and  for  the  - 
first  time  for  many  weeks,  he  sank  into  a  quiet  and 
refreshing  slumber.     A  slight  noise  in  the  aparrt-, 
ment  awoke  him,  when,  turning  towards  a  fair  3 
young    girl  who    entered,  *  Emilie,  my  daughter,* 
said  he,  *  come  near  to  me — my  task  is  over — the 
requiem  isi  finished.    My  requiem,'  he  added,  and  a 
sigh  escaped   him.     *  Oh !    say  not  so,  my  father, 


l^ft  FOURTH      LECTURE. 

said  the  girl,  interrupting  him,  as  tears  stood  in  her 
eyes,  *you  must  be  better,  you  look  better,  for  even 
now  your  cheek  has  a  glow  upon  it;  do  let  me 
bring  you  something  refreshing,  and  I  am  sure  we 
will  nurse  you  well  again.'  *  Do  not  deceive  your- 
self, my  love,'  said  he,  '  this  wasted  form  can  never 
be  restored  by  human  aid.  From  heaven's  mercy 
alone,  can  I  hope  for  succor ;  and  it  will  be  grant- 
ed, Emilie,  in  the  time  of  my  utmost  need  ;  yes,  in 
the  hour  of  death,  I  will  claim  his  help,  who  is 
always  ready  to  aid  those  who  trust  in  him ;  and 
soon,  very  soon,  must  this  mortal  frame  be  laid  in 
its  quiet  sleeping  place,  and  this  restless  soul  return 
to  Him  who  gave  it.'  The  dying  father  then  rais- 
ed himself  on  his  couch — '  you  spoke  of  refresh- 
ment, my  daughter;  it  can  still  be  afforded  my 
fainting  soul.  Talie  these  notes,  the  last  I  shall 
ever  pen,  and  sit  down  to  the  instrument.  Sing 
with  them  the  hymn  so  beloved  by  your  mother, 
and  let  me  once  more  hear  those  tones  which  have 
been  my  delight  since  my  earliest  remembranc«A1 
Emilie  did  as  she  was  desired ;  and  it  seemed  as  if 
she  sought  a  relief  from  her  own  thoughts ;  for 
lifter  running  over  a  few  chords  of  the  piano,  she 


FOURTH      LECTURE.  IW 

conimenced,  in  the  sweetest  voice,  the  following 
lines :  ^  i^tftrr  fio\  *  hb^^ 

■ '  Oil 

, '  Spirit  thy  labor  is  o'er, 

fijr  :rrij,jj^  ^^^^  of  probation  is^l-lji^^*''  '""^^ 

Thy  steps  are  now  bound  for  the  untrodden  shore,  ' '  ^' 

lt)V'                And  the  race  of  immortils  begun.                  '^  «f^>H 

spirit!  look  not  on  the  strife 
Or  the  pleasures  of  earth  with  regret — 
H^  t-     i  Pause  not  on  the  threshold  of  limitless  life, 
To  mourn  for  the  day  that  is  set. 

.   ,  .    ,       ,  Spirit !  no  fetters  can  bind, 
fii  Dim  t)d  iood  \'iov  (iiooB 

No  wicked  have  power  to  molest ; 

There  the  weary,  like  thee — the  wretched  shall  find, 

A  heaven — a  mansion  of  rest.        ° 

-ifesilt)!  io  oi4<  iogfliiii    bo 

^m  b9lnofSP**"'^^^^'^''g^^^"^^^°*^«Li^^jjjjb  xm  Mom 

,,     I      ,     ,    For  which  thou  art  now  on  the  wins !  ..    .  rv 

iliu[>.  i    l^w  '08  ^nrtniiJl 

Thy  home,  it  will  be  with  thy  Saviour  and  God, 
Their  loud  hallelujahs  to  sing.' 

,i9if;tofi'  d  mli  rrrnffl  liiiw 

07^' As  she  concluded  the  last  stanza,  she  dwelt 
for  a  few  moments  on  the  low  melancholy  notes  of 
the  piece,  and  then  waited  in  silence  for  the  mild 
voice  of  her  father's  praise.  He  spoke  not — and 
with  something  like  surprise,  she  turned  towards 


108  FOURTH      LECTURE. 

him.  He  was  laid  back  upon  the  sofa,  his  face 
shaded  in  part  by  his  hand,  and  liis  form  reposing 
as  if  in  slumber.  Starting  with  fear,  Emilie  sprang 
towards  him  and  seized  his  hand ;  but  the  touch 
paralyzed  her,  for  she  sank  senseless  by  his. side. 
He  was  gone !  With  the  sounds  of  the  sweetest 
melody  ever  composed  by  human  thought,  his  soul 
had  winged  its  flight  to  regions  of  eternal  bliss." 

Such  was  the  death  of  the  illustrious  Mozart ; 
and  though  his  religion  may  be  said  to  have  been 
clouded  by  the  superstitions  of  his  day,  we  yet  can 
see  how  fondly  he  clung  to  it,  however  dimmed,  as 
his  only  refuge  when  sinking  into  the  grave. 

I  will  select  but  two  other  names.  They  shall 
be  taken  from  the  long  list  of  ministers  of  the  gos- 
pel, whose  faith  in  its  blessed  truths  was  obscured 
by  none  of  those  human  devices  which  serve  to 
distract  the  mind  from  the  simplicity  of  its  trust  in 
God,  whether  in  life  or  death.  Janeway's  *^  Token 
for  Children  "  has  made  the  author  of  that  precious 
little  book  known  to  many  of  us  from  our  child- 
hood. Though  he  was  not  a  man  of  great  intellect 
or  learning,  he  was  a  man  of  seraphic  piety,  and  of 
a  most  gentle  spirit.    In  a  measure  rarely  equalled 


FOURTH     LECTURE.  199 

he  had  "  received  the  kingdom  of  God  as  a  little 
child;"  and  all  his  faculties  seem  to  have  been 
shaped  for  conveying  truth  to  the  heart  while  it  is 

«' young  and  tender,  not  yet  hardened  through  the 
deceitfulness  of  sin.  He  was  called  away  from  the 
world,  and  from  the  ministry  of  the  gospel,  when 

;  in  the  morning  of  life ;  but  if  he  was  not  allowed 
to  serve  his  Master  long  as  a  living  teacher,  he  was 
enabled  to  leave  behind  him  a  dying  testimony 
that  can  scarcely  be  surpassed.  When  told  that  it 
might  please  God  to  raise  him  up  again  from  a 
sick  bed,  he  replied,  "  That  would  be  far  from  my 
desire.  The  world  has  lost  its  hold  on  me.  Oh, 
how  poor  and  contemptible  a  thing  it  is  in  all  its 
glory,  compared  with  the  glory  of  that  invisible 
world  that  I  now  live  in  the  sight  of.  As  for  life, 
Christ   is   my  life,    health,   and  strength;   and   I 

:  know  that  through  Him  I  shall  have  a  better  kind 
of  life,  when  I  leave  this  life  on  earth.  Death  has 
lost  its  terrors.  Death  is  nothing,  death  is  nothing, 
through  grace  to  me.  I  can  as  peacefully  die,  as 
shut  my  eyes  and  turn  my  head  and  sleep.  I  long 
to  be  with  Christ.  I  long  to  die.  He  then,  with 
ovei'powering  emotion,  exclaimed,   "  Oh,  help  me, 


?§0  FOURTH      LEGTUBE. 

help  me,  my  friends,  to  admire  and  praise  the  Re* 
deemer,  who  hath  done  such  astonishing  things, 
^uch  wonders  for  my  soul.  Come  help  jne,  all  y^ 
mighty  and  glorious  angels,  who  are  so  well  skilled 
in  this  heavenly  work  of  praise.  Praise  Him  ali 
ye  preachers  upon  earth.  Let  every  thing  that 
hath  hreath  praise  the  Lord.  Before  even  a  few 
hours  are  past  I  shall  stand  upon  Mount  Zion^ 
singing  the  song  of  Moses  and  the  Lamb.  I  shall 
he  surrounded  with  companies  of  angels,  and  the 
.spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect,  and  be  one  among 
them  that  shall  say  "  Hallelujah,  hallelujah,  salva- 
tion and  honor;  and  power  and  glory  unto  the  Lord 
our  Grod  and  to  the  Lamb  in  the  midst  of  the 
throne ;  and  again  and  forever  we  shall  sing  hal^ 
lelujah."  And  in  this  triumphant  frame  of  spirit 
he  expired,  anticipating  his  part  in  the  songs  of 
heaven  before  he  had  yet  been  released  from  earth. 
The  other  example  is  that  of  Toplady,  whose 
beautiful  hymns,  such  as  "  Rock  of  ages  cleft  for 
me,"  have  a  place  in  the  worship  of  almost  every 
Protestant  Church  in  the  world.  He  was  called 
away  in  the  morning  of  his  strength,  in  his  thirty, 
eighth  year.     He  had  every  thing  before  him  that 


FOURTH      LECJ^ttlt^^.  SOl 

could  make  life  desirable,  and  yet  when  he  saw  his 
la^t  hour  at  hand,  his  faith  in  the  gospel  rendered 
his  death  bed  a  scene  of  exulting  gladness.  *'  It  is 
Jrijf-'dyiAg  avowal,'*  he  declared,  "that  those  great 
f\h\d  glorious  truths  which  the  Lord  in  rich  mercy 
ha^' given  me  to  believe  attd  enabled  me  to  preaoh> 
eite  far  from  being  dry  doctrines,  and  mere  specuW 
tions.  No,  no;  they  are  now  brought  into  practical 
and  heartfelt  experience;  they  are  the  very  joy 
and  support  of  my  soul.  The  consolations  flowing 
from  them  carry  me  far  above  the  things  of  time 
and  sense.  So  far  as  I  know  my  ^)f1vn  heart,  I 
have  no  desire  but  to  be  entirely  passive;  to  liv^J 
to  die,  to  be,  to  do,  to  suffer  whatever  is  God's 
blessed  will  concerning  me ;  perfectly  satisfied  that 
*^  he  ever  has,  so  he  ever  will  do  that  which  is 
best,  and  that  he  gives  out  in  number,  Weight  and 
measure,  whatever  will  conduce  most  to  his  own 
glory  and  the  good  of  his  people."  Frequently  he 
called  himself  a  dying  man,  and  yet  the  happiest 
man  in  the  world,  adding,  "  Sickness  is  no  affliction, 
jpain  no  curse,  death  itself  no  dissolution ;  and  yet 
how  this  soul  of  mine  longs  to  be  gone ;  like  a  bird 
imprisoned  in  its  cage,  it  longs  to  take  its  flight: 


202  FOURTH      LECTURE. 

Had  I  wings  like  a  dove,  then  would  I  fly  away 
to  the  bosom  of  G-od,  and  be  at  rest  for  ever.'* 
"Within  an  hour  before  he  expired  he  seemed  to 
awake  from  a  gentle  slumber,  when  he  exclaimed^ 
"  Oh  what  delights  !  Who  can  fathom  the  joys  of 
the  third  heaven?  What  a  bright  sunshine  has 
been  spread  around  me !  I  have  not  words  to  ex- 
press it.  I  know  it  cannot  be  long  now  till  my 
Saviour  will  come  for  me,  for  surely  no  mortal  man 
can  live,"  bursting,  as  he  said  it,  into  a  flood  ol 
tears,  "  after  glories  which  God  has  manifested  to 
my  soul.  All  is  light,  light,  light.  The  brightness 
of  his  own  ^lory.  Oh,  come  Lord  Jesus,  comej 
come  quickly,"  when  he  closed  his  eyes  and  fell 
asleep,  to  be  awaked  with  others  of  like  precious 
faith,  on  that  great  day  "  when  the  Lord  Jesus  shall 
be  revealed  from  heaven  with  his  mighty  angels  to 
be  glorified  in  his  saints,  and  admired  in  all  them 
that  believe." 

With  the  recollection  of  these  examples,  so  dif- 
ferent in  their  meaning  and  spirit,  yet  fresh  in  ouir 
minds,  let  us  pause  and  reflect  on  what  we  have 
seen.  Death  is  a  change  through  which  every  one 
living  must  pass.     "  It  is  appointed  to  men  once  to 


FOURTH      LECTURE.  203 

die,  and  after  this  the  judgment ;"  and  when  death 
comes,  we  see  how  it  is  felt  to  be  a  test  of  the  man, 
a  test  of  his  principles,  a  test  of  his  prospects  in  the 
world  to  come.  Let  it  be  remembered,  as  we  have 
before  observed,  that  m  the  comparison  which  we 
have  now  drawn  between  the  death  of  the  chris- 
tian and  the  death  of  the  infidel,  we  have  allowed 
infidelity  to  assume  the  fairest  exhibition  she  can 
inake  of  herself  We  have  cited  from  her  ranks 
no  names  of  little  credit  or  little  known ;  we  have 
looked  at  ■  her  strongest  men,  strongest  in  mind, 
strongest  in  purpose,  and  I  may  add  strongest  in 
pride,  the  pride  of  being  distinguished  for  consis- 
tency and  firmness.  If  she  has  advocates  who  pos- 
sessed a  more  enduring  fortitude  and  wider  fame, 
we  know  not  where  to  find  them.  She  would  not 
desire  to  produce  in  this  connection,  and  as  exam- 
ples of  peace  and  happiness  in  death,  such  names 
ff 

as  the  famous  Girondins  of  France,  who  in  the 
days  of  revolutionary  frenzy,  and  drunk  with  the 
blood  of  a  nation,  scofied  at  both  life  and  death, 
and  strewed  their  impious  atheistic  songs  over  their 
own  graves.  Such  men  come  before  us  as  monsters, 
Sn,  forms  so  misshapen  and  hideous  that  they  seem 


204  FOURTH      LECTURE. 

as  if  conjured  up  from  the  abodes  of  darkness  to 
startle  us  with  the  appalling  sight  of  the  hardened 
depravity  into  which  long  continued  blasphemy 
can  sometimes  sink  the  guilty  offender.  An  infi- 
delity that  would  respect  even  the  instinctive  de^ 
cencies  of  our  nature,  would  be  far  from  owning 
such  blasphemers  as  examples  that  redound  to  het 
credit ;  especially  would  she  be  far  from  placing 
them  on  a  level  with  her  disciples  who  are  best 
known  for  high  cultivation  and  enlarged  intelligence! 
And  now,  that  we  have  seen  how  infidelity 
leaves  the  wisest  infidel  without  hope  in  death j 
while  Christianity  spreads  before  the  christian  a 
hope  full  of  immortality,  we  may  well  ask,  is  there 
no  argument  here  to  show  which  of  the  two  we 
should  choose  as  a  religion  adapted  to  the  wants  of 
dying  men?  There  can  be  but  the  one  answer 
from  every  one  who  allows  conscience  to  give  it. 
"  Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous  and  let  my 
last  end  be  like  his,"  was  the  prayer  of  Balaam  as 
he  stood  on  the  plains  of  Moab,  struggling  with  his 
own  convictions,  and  tempted  from  his  allegiance 
to  truth  by  his  love  of  the  world.  And  ever  since 
-his  day,  it  has  been  the  repeated  supplication,  utter- 


FOURTH      LECTURE.  205 

ed  by  men  tlie  most  hardened  enemies  of  Chris- 
tianity, when  they  have  seen  death  before  them, 
and  realized  what  it  is  to  die.  Go  where  you  will 
in  our  dying  world,  and  consult  the  "  saint,  the 
savage,  or  the  sage,"  and  you  will  find  from  the 
experience  of  them  all,  that  faith  in  the  gospel  of 
our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  himself 
the  Resurrection  and  the  Life^  is  the  only  power 
that  can  take  fro^jj^i  death  its  sting,  and  from  the 
grave  its  victory w'(irant,  if  you  will  for  a  moment, 
that  the  gospel  is  but  a  fable,  our  faith  in  it  a  mere 
delusion,  and  that  our  hope  and  joy  from  it  are  but 
a  dream.  What  dream  was  ever  like  it  ?  What 
dream  was  ever  so  blessed  ^  •  If  we  do  but  dre^/nai 
in  all  that  we  hope  and  believe,  whether  living  or 
dying,  in  mercy  to  us,  let  us  dream  on,  let  us 
dream  for  ever.  The  man  that  would  awake  us  is 
our  worst  enemy.  For  when  he  has  dispelled  our 
dream,  so  joyous  and  heavenly  as  we  find  it,  what 
has  he  to  give  us  in  its  place  but  bitter  despair  ? 

*"  13 

'f  oi 
fioiixjvoilqqtigbt 


^* '  Influence  of  the  Bible  on  the  intellect  of  Man. 

;^/jjij  eqoii  b  *^m  Jaiii  aHl  rmnl  Una 

Xiol-g  'to  0!)n9^lo'fi9  ^Tjohn  viii.  12.  Aobimi'^ 

f(  97B  9W  ^n9v>69rf  iii;  benioaliai  adi  -^m^f/i 
I  am  the  light  of  the  world. 

^'  *  'THe  language  of  the  text  is  equally  simple  and 
"^grahd.  Like  the  "  wise  sayings "  of  old  which 
Vere  said  to  have  come  down  from  heaven,  it  con- 
tains *'  multum  in  parvo  ;"  it  has  a  variety  of  mean- 
ings which  like  the  leaves  of  a  flower,  may  be  un- 
loldM  one  after  another,  and  yet  are  united  by  a 
"toiiinfibn  stem. 

The  words  are  used  by  the  Saviour  as  referring 
to  the  various  offices  he  fulfils  in  the  works  of  crea- 
tion, J)rovidence  and  grace.  He  is  ''  the  light  of  the 
^world,''  lor  it  was  he  who,  "in  the  beginning," 
''Wheftii  "darkness  was  upon  the  face  of  the  deep," 
commanded  "let  there  be  light,  and  there  was 
light';"  and  from  that  first  day  of  earth's  existence, 
it  is  lie  who  kindles  the  sun  in  the  heavens  every 


FIFTH      LECTURE.  207 

morning  that  it  rises.  He  is  also  "  the  light  of  the 
world,"  for,  when  by  our  transgressions  against 
heaven  we  had  covered  ourselves  with  the  dark- 
ness of  guilt  and  despair,  and  doomed  ourselves  to 
death,  he  "  brought  life  and  immortality  to  light  '^ 
by  the  gospel ;  and  from  the  first  ray  of  hope  that 
gladdens  the  heart,  up  to  that  effulgence  of  glory 
which  awaits  the  redeemed  in  heaven,  we  are  in- 
debted for  it  all  to  the  Son  of  God. 

But  it  is  to  a  different  application  of  the  words 
that  I  now  call  your  attention.  They  ascribe  to 
him  another  and  farther  office  still,  when  they 
announce  him  as  "  the  light  of  the  world."  They 
declare  him  to  be  the  author  of  whatever  is  clear 
and  splendid  in  the  world  of  mind  and  thought. 
Whether  it  be  in  man  or  angel,  every  faculty  by 
which  we  ciin  discover  truth,  can  discriminate  be- 
tween good  and  evil,  beauty  and  deformity,  is  de- 
rived from  him.  The  enlarged  domain  of  intellec- 
tual light  which  belongs  to  the  unsinning  seraphs 
in  heaven,  comes  to  them  as  his  gift ;  it  is  a  part  of 
his  image  in  which  he  created  them;  and  when 
man  by  his  fall  from  primeval  innocence,  had  both 
destroyed  the  purity  of  his  heart,  and  fatally  iin 


Jl^  FIFTH      LECTURE. 

;  paired  the  powers  of  his  understanding ;  it  is  only 
as  he  comes  under  .the  influence  of  the  remedial 
scheme  by  which  men  "  are  brought  from  darkness 
to  light,  and  frpni;  the  power  of  Satan  unto  the 
living  God/'  that  intellect  becomes  healthful  and 
active,  and  the  enlarged  discoveries  of  truth  and 
jwisdoin  are  made  fully  available  in  promoting  the 
comfort  and  welfare  of  men.  This  is  what  I  now 
i  undertake  to  make  good,  and  in  doing  so,  I  will 
present  you.  with 

A    contrast  between   Christianity  on  the  one 
^hand,  and  Infidelity  on  the  other,  in  their  respec- 
itive    influences    upon   the  cause  of  sound   learn- 
4i}g, .  ajid  knowledge  in  our  world* ' 
j^    ;^ou  will  at  once  perceive  how  fitly  this  forijis 
^e  next  step  in  our  proposed  lectures  on  the  connec- 
tion between  Science  and  Religion.     On  a  previous 
.occasion  we  took  a  review  of  learned  men  who 
have  been  the  opposers  of  Christianity ;  and  while 
,;w(5  allowed  them  ^all  due  credit  for  their  attain- 
^uent^^  in   Science  and    Letters,  we   proceeded   to 
show   that   their   infidelity    did    not   spring   from 
,!)fel^eir  learning,  but  from  causes  far  from  honora- 
7  We  tQ,jthe  men  themselves.    We  next  brought  up 


FIFTH      LECTUIIE: 


TO  view,  ranks  of  the  learned  who  htive^  appearetjL 
as  the  advocates  and  ornaments  of  Christianity ; 
and  we  showed  that  if  the  question  is  to  be  settled 
Dy  the  authority  of  names,  no  demonstration  can  be 
more  complete  than  that  which  we  have  furnished. 

But  triumphant  as  the  argument  may  be  ren- 
dered by  this  comparison  of  men  with  men,  I  wish 
to  carry  it  still  farther.  I  wish  to  compare  the 
systems  as  such,  of  these  two  opposite  parties,  and 
to  show  what  have  been  their  different  agencies  in 
the  promotion  of  knowledge.  "  By  their  fruits  ye 
shall  know  them,"  is  so  plainly  a  maxim  of  sound 
wisdom,  that  opposers  should  not  question  it, 
though  it  is  found  in  the  Bible.  We  will  now  en. 
deavor  to  show  what  has  been  done  by  Christiani- 
ty in  imparting  a  spirit  for  the  cultivation  of  schol- 
arship and  enlarged  knowledge,  and  will  then  ask, 
what  has  been  done  by  Infidelity  for  the  same 
glorious  cause. 

In  this  connection  it  may  be  proper  to  observe^ 
that  a  great  distinction  of  Christianity  from  other 
systems  of  Religion,  lies  in  its  awakening  and  che- 
rishing, in  all  its  true  disciples,  a  spirit  of  inquiry^ 
a  desire  for  increase  of  intelligence.    Compare  the 


210  fifIth    lecture. 

Bible  in  this  respect,  with  the  Koran  for  instance. 
When  the  Saracens,  in  their  conquests,  became  mas-^ 
t^ts  of  the  Alexandrian  Library,  then  the  greatest 
storehouse  of  learning'  in  th*e  Vorld,  they  v/eW'i^-!^ 
sir^d  to  spare  it  from  the  ruin  which  every  wliei'e 
followed  their  arms.     The  reply  which  Omar  is 
said  to  have  given,  was,  that  "  if  the  Library  con-' 
tained  nothing  biit  what  wtis  in  the  Koran,  it  was 
useless,  and  if  it  contained  anything  more,  it  was 
dangerous  and  hurtful ;  and  in  either  case  it  ought 
to  be  destroyed.'^     Whether  the  story  be  true  df^ 
false,  it  developes  the  true  spirit  of  the  Mohamnie- 
dan  creed.     Its  whole  tendency  is  to  hamper  inqui-^ 
tY)  to  warp  the  faculties  of  the  mind,  to  confine  i^ 
within  the  limits  of  the  Koran,  as  in  a  pillory ;  % 
subdue  every  desire  which  would  know  anything 
beyond  it,  or  weigh  the  reasonableness  and  truth^ 
of  what  is  in  it.   And  such  is  the  case  more  or  less, 
with  all  false  religions.     The  very  heaven  to  which 
they  profess  to  conduct  man,  they  make  to  consist, 
not  so  much  in  the  enjoyments  of  the  soul,  and 
the  growth  af  its  powers,  as  in  the  enjoyments  of^ 
seiise,  which   man   shares   in  common  with  the^ 
Errational  world  around  hiikr''^'"''  «'"  «*  nBOtUlleq 


Not  SO  the  Bible,     It  ^throws  open  its.  ey^r)^ 
page,  and  enjoins  it  upon  u^  ip  "sei^^chth^- Scrips 
tures;"  not  only  to  read,  but  to  examine  them;.  tO| 
view  them  in  every  aspect  in  whicl>  we  caj:^  pl^ce^ 
them,  and  to  try  their  truth  and  genuineness^  we, 
would  try  the  purity  of  fine  gold.    Th^  ^pirit^.which 
the  Gospel  breathes  on  its  disciples,  it  expressly 
caUs  a  "  spirit  of  wisdom  and  knowledge."     As  a 
fruit  of  its  wide  diffusion  througli  the  world,  it  foretj 
tells,  that  "many  shall. run  to  and  fro  throughout> 
the  earth,  and  knowledge  shall  be  increased  ;'*  that 
"  the  eyes  of  them  that  see  shall  not  be  dim ;"  and 
that  such  shall  be  the  increase  of  wisdom  and  i^n^ 
telligence,  that  "  the  light  of  the  Moon  shall  be  a9 . 
the  light  of  the  Sun;  and  the  light  of  tjie  Sii^^ 
shall  be  seven  fold,  as  the  light  of  seven  days."; 
While  also  it  holds  up  God's  word,  as  the  best  and 
highest  revelation  of  his  wisdom  and  goodness,  it-^ 
carries  us  abroad  to  all  his  works  above  and  around^ 
us,  ana  commands  us  to  study  their  origin,  nature ' 
and  end ;  saying,  "  Lift  up  your  eyes  on  high,  and 
behold  who  hath  created  these  things,  and  bringeth 
out  their  hosts  by  number."     And  then  having  im- 
pelled men  to  the  cultivation  of  theii;^J)es^  i^^ulties 


^K  FIFTH     LECTUEE. 

here  on  earth,  it  tells  us  that  enlarged,  and  ever 
enlarging  knowledge  is  a  chief  source  of  joy  in 
heaven  ;  for  there  ^'  we  shall  know  even  as  we 
me  known."  oil  I 

Thus  does  the  Bible  lay  open  every  avenue  to 
intelligence,  making  it  our  duty  and  our  glory  to 
pursue  it.  While  it  sanctifies  the  heart  from  sin, 
and  conforms  the  soul  to  the  image  of  God  in  puri[- 
ty  and  holiness,  it  enlarges  and  elevates  the  powers 
of  the  understanding;  so  that  be  it  the, artist,  tha 
poet,  the  historian,  the  philosopher,  the  statesman, 
whatever  the  man  may  be  or  may  pursue  as  an 
.achievement  of  taste,  genius,  or  judgment;  we  hold 
that  the  quickening  influence  of  divine  revelation 
on  his  intellectual  powers  carries  him  forward  to 
an  excellence  which  he  never  could  have  reached 
without  it.  The  man  himself  may  not  be  fully 
conscious  of  this ;  neither  is  he  conscious  of  how  a 
healthy  atmosphere  tends  to  infuse  the  bloom  of 
health  into  his  bodily  frame,  or  of  how  the  rays  of 
the  sun  are  acting  on  the  air  he  breathes  to  render 
it  healthful  as  an  element  of  life.  Indeed,  for  many 
of  the  blessings  most  essential  to  our  physical,  in- 
tellectual or  moral  welfare,  we  are  dependant  on  . 


FIFTH      LECTURE. 


213 


causes  of  which  we  have  little  consciousness  at  the 
tiuie.  And  among  thein  do  we  place  the  influence 
•of  reyealed  truth  in  developing  and  invigorating 
the  intellectual  faculties  of  men  and  communities 

of  men.  l*»        '^'^      r.-^Kn,     r..,n   . 

This,  as  you  see,  makes  Letteikiynd' Science  in- 
debted to  I  the  Bible  in  a  way  not  generally  ac- 
knowledged. But  we  do  not  advance  it  as  a  mere 
theory.  For  proof,  we  go  to  facts ;  facts  so  plainly 
written  on  the  pages  of  history  that  "  he  who  runs 
may  read." 

Here  at  the  outset  of  the  argument,  we  are  re- 
minded of  the  eminence  in  letters  attained  by  Greece 
and  Rome,  in  their  palmy  days,  though  under  the 
darkness  of  Paganism.  And  most  willingly  do  we 
admit  whatever  can  be  justly  claimed  for  the  au- 
thors and  artists  of  those  distinguished  nations.  A 
scholar  scarce  deserves  the  name,  whose  heart  does 
not  warm  at  the  recollection  of  the  enjoyment  and 
improvement  which  he  has  derived  from  drinking 
at  the  Castalian  springs,  which  have  been  unsealed 
by  the  intellects  of  Greece  and  Rome,  pagan  though 
they  were.  But  if  you  compare  the  whole  compass 
of  their  learning,  with  that  of  Christian  nations, 


214  FIFTH     LECTURE. 

you  will  find  that  in  this,  as  in  many  other  things, 
"  distance  lends  enchantment  to  the  view."  Even 
when  Rome  had  reached  the  Augustan  age,  an  age 
of  dazzling  prosperity  and  refinement,  her  literature 
was  restricted  within  a  narrow  range.  In  philoso- 
phy, properly  so  called,  whether  mental  or  moral, 
her  writers  are  comparatively  shallow  and  obscure. 
In  physics,  her  knowledge  was  so  contracted  and 
meagre  as  even  to  surprise  us.  In  political  science 
and  the  great  principles  which  ascertain  civil 
rights,  and  should  regulate  civil  governments,  she 
knew  little,  and  practised  still  less.  Liberty  with 
her,  was  too  much  of  an  enchanting  sound,  with- 
out a  definite  meaning;  and  under  the  cover  of 
its  name,  the  most  exorbitant  wrongs  were  often 
both  committed  and  vindicated. 

The  remark  has  been  so  often  made  as  to  render 
it  very  familiar,  that  the  branches  of  learning  in 
which  Home  can  be  said  to  be  most  conspicuous 
are  History,  Poetry  and  Rhetoric.  But  her  histori- 
ans are  greatly  wanting  in  that  which  gives  its 
greatest  value  to  the  history  of  nations.  They  may 
give  us  a  smooth,  clear,  beautiful  narrative  of  com- 
mon events,  woven  together,  it  is  true,  with  a  rhe- 


FIFTH      LECTURE.  215 

torical  skill,  which  but  few  modern  historians  have 
equalled.     But  however  polished  the  style  of  the 
historian,  if  he  simply  tells  us,  that  a  great  battle 
has  been  fought,  with  vast  slaughter,  and  issued 
ill  the  subjugation  of  one  party  to  the  dominion  of 
another;  or  that  a  conquering  nation  has  added 
province  to  province  in  her  widening  empire,  until 
L  she  claims  to  be  mistress  of  the  world ;  the  instruc- 
T'tion  to  be  gained  from  his  writings  is  comparative- 
IVy  meagre  and  scanty.     The  world  is  nothing  the 
f>ii¥iser  or  better  from  its  knowledge  of  the  simple 
iifact,  whether  Cajsar  conquers  Pompey,  or  Ponjpey 
should  be  victorious  over  Casar  at  the  battle  of 
If'Pharsalia ;  whether  it  be  Antony  or  Brutus,  that 
J  prevails  at  Philippi.     If  history  would  deserve  to 
be  called  by  the  high  name  of  pliilosophy  teaching 
]•  by  example,  if  she  would  furnish   records  of  the 
>  past,  pregnant  with  instruction  for  the  future ;  she 
must  unfold  the  dependence  of  events  on  their  true 
causes,  she  must  trace  and  point  out  the  origin  and 
nature  of  the  various  delusions  which  have  involv- 
ed nations  in  misery  and  ruin;  and  must  designate 
with  plainness  and  precision,  the  great  sources  of 
public  prosperity  and  happiness.    How  little  of  this 


m 


FIFTH      LECTURE, 


do  we  find  in  Salliist,  Livy,  or  Tacitus,  compared 
with  the  better  historiajis  of  modern  times  !  .ijy/ 
<^8-In  Poetry  and  Rhetoric,  Rome  has  a  more^ 
acknowledged  pre-eminence.  Her  Virgil,  and  her 
Cicero,  will  always  stand  on  a  high  pedestal  while 
poets  and  orators  are  held  in  renown.  But  both. 
Rhetoric  and  Poetry  are  designed,  more  to  give  re- 
finement and  polish  to  what  is  already  known, 
than  to  enlarge  the  bounds  of  useful  knowledge; 
and  the  most  fond  admirers  of  what  formed  the 
glory  of  the  Augustan  age,  must  admit,  that 
throughout  the  whole  range  of  Roman  Literature, 
it  was  rather  in  the  entertaining  and  polite  branch- 
es of  learning,  than  in  the  more  useful  and  impor- 
tant, that  she  acquired  her  chief  distinction,  i.m.msi 
The  same  is  in  a  great  measure  true  concern- 
ing their  teachers,  the  Greeks ;  for  the  progress  of 
the  pupil  will  always  reflect  the  scholarship  of  the 
master.  It  is  iri  fact  the  spirit  of  Greece  that 
breathes  in  the  historians,  poets,  and  orators  of 
Rome,  perhaps  mellowed  and  refined  by  age  and 
experience.  And  even  when  you  turn  to  those 
branches  of  science  and  art  in  which  Greece  stands 
t^omparatively  alone ;  to  her  architecture  and  sculp- 


FIFTH     LECTURE.  '^l^ 

ture  as  displayed  in  her  temples  aiid  her  statuary^ 
which  remain  to  this  day  models  of  taste  for  all 
generations;  eren'  here,  you  again  meet  the  gieat 
distinction  of  intellect  among  the  ancients.  As  a 
trSat'/ observer  has  said,  **  their  strength  was  ex- 
pfe/r*ded' oil  the  surface,  not  the  nature  of  things; 
their  skill  lay  in  polishing,  not  in  analyzing. 
They  hewed  and  chiseled  the  stone  into  the  grace- 
ful Statue,  or  the  lofty  column ;  but  of  what  the 
material  was  composed,  what  were  the  laws  of  its 
formation,  or  to  what  various  purposes  of  human 
power  and  comfort  it  might  be  applied,  they  nei- 
ther understood  nor  inquiredl^j  oil; 

But  here  comes  another  inquiry,  too  seldom 
raised.  Was  Greece  indebted  for  her  distinction  in 
Letters  and  the  Arts  to  no  foreign  source  ?  And  if 
h),  to  what  nation  or  people  can  we  trace  her  ob« 
ligations  ?  Rome  borrowed  largely  from  her.  Did 
she  also  borrow  from  some  other  nation  that 
flourished  before  her  ?  The  opinion  prevailed  for  a 
long  time,  that  Greece  derived  her  most  valuable 
knowledge  from  Ancient  Egypt.  But  more  tho. 
rough  and  recent  researches  lead  to  a  different  con- 
clusion.    Although    Egypt  must    be    conceded    to 


218  FIFTH     LECTURE,. 

have  been  among  the  earliest  of  the  nations  cele-  - 
brated    in  history  for  wisdom  and    greatness,  she 
has  been  allowed  to  have  credit  for  both  extent ' 
and  antiquity  of  knowledge  which  she  does  not  de-  ^ 
serve.     She  flourished  at  a  period  so  remote  and  so  - 
buried  in  obscurity,  that  fable  has  been  allowed 
too  often  to  pass  for  fact,  when  writers  have  been ' 
describing  her  attainments  in  knowledge  and  power. 
But  there  are  records  to  show  what  she  was,  that 
are  now  becoming  disinterred  from  the  sands  that 
have  been  heaped  on  them  for  scores  of  generations. 
The  huge  ruins  of  her  chief  cities,  and  the  figures 
and  inscriptions  on  the  pillars  and  walls  of  her 
temples  are  monuments,  showing  what  was   her 
standard  in  taste,  and  her  progress  in  art  during 
the  days  of  her  Pharaohs.    And  they  prove,  that  if 
she  was  ever  entitled  to  be  called  "The  Cradle  of 
Science,"  it  must  have  been  when  Science,  owing 
to  the  feebleness  of  infancy,  required  the  use  of  a 
cradle.     But  when  Science  had  outgrown  the  ap- 
pendages of  bewildering  and  tottering  infancy,  and' 
had  reached   matured  form  and   strength,   Egypt 
was  neither  her  guardian  or  her  home.     Many  of 
Egypt's  works  of  art,  for  which  an  antiquity  has 


FIFTH     LECTURE.  219 

been  claimed  that  would  place  them  anterior  to 
the  days  of  David  and  Solomon,  have  been  shown 
to  be  comparatively  modern  ;  while  those  which  are 
confessedly  of  an  earlier  date,  have  marks  of  an 
a^e  which  may  have  excelled  in  massive  strength 
and  cumbrous  size,  but  knew  little  or  nothing  of 
finished  symmetry  or  grace.  The  question  then 
again  recurs — ^>^'here  did  Greece  derive  the  impulse 
which  gave  her  that  pre-eminence  in  science  and 
art  which  once  adorned  her  *?  No  one  denies  that 
she  derived  valuable  elements  of  learning  from 
Egypt,  Phoenicia,  and  from  Assyria.  But  it  was 
merely  the  elements.  If  we  speak  of  her  higher 
attainments  in  such  branches  as  architecture, 
sculpture,  and  poetry,  to  which  she  owes  her  bright 
fame,  time,  that  great  expositor  of  truth  and  right, 
that  great  detector  of  error  and  wrong,  has  shown 
that  the  standards  of  beauty  on  which  Greece 
formed  her  taste,  the  models  from  which  she  copi- 
ed, were  furnished  to  her  from  the  land  of  the  He- 
brews, "  to  whom  were  committed  the  oracles  of 
God,"  and  npon  whose  artists  and  poets  the  breath 
of  inspiration  from  heaven  was  made  to  rest,  ele- 
vating? their  faculties  to  an  excellence   imknown 


220  FIFTH     LECTURE. 

among  the  nations  of  the  world  before  their  day. 
Egypt,  Phoenicia,  and  Assyria,  were  as  accessible 
to  Greece  before  the  rise  of  the  Hebrew  nation,  as 
after  that  memorable  era  in  the  history  of  our  race. 
How  came  it  then  that  no  Parthenon,  or  other 
specimens  t)f  finished  architecture  ever  rose  in 
Athens  or  elsewhere,  until  after  the  Temple  wa.*^ 
built  on  Mount  Zion,  according  to  a  model  given 
by  direct  inspiration  from  Jehovah  ?  How  came 
it  that  no  Homer  was  ever  heard  reciting  his 
strains  of  poetry,  until  David,  Isaiah,  and  other  in- 
spired men  poured  forth  their  sublime  verse  in 
the  Holy  Land  ?  The  zephyrs  of  Attica  were  as 
bland,  and  Helicon  and  Parnassus  were  as  lofty 
and  verdant,  before  Judea  put  forth  her  displays  of 
learning  and  the  arts  as  afterwards.  Yet  none 
of  all  the  Muses  breathed  their  inspiration  over 
Greece  till  the  spirit  of  the  most  High  God  had 
awakened  the  soul  of  Letters  and  of  Arts  in  t];].e 

nation  of  the  Hebrews. 
<\.  ■ 
But  we  are  not  left  sim^ply  to  this  mode  of  art 

gument,  conclusive  as  it  might  be  rendered.     The 

careful  investigations  of  our  scholare  and  artists 

have  carried  to  demonstration  what  appears  both 

i 


FIFTH      LECTURE. 

reasonable  and  probable,  from  the  view  we  hav^ 
just  taken  of  it. 

Let  us  turn  to  the  architecture  of  Greece,  her 
great  boast,  and  a  science  which  as  all  admit,  fur- 
nishes no  dubious  indication  of  the  civilization  and 
refinement  prevailing  in  a  nation.  No  one  ac- 
quainted with  the  history  of  the  Hebrews  can  ques- 
tion their  pre-eminence  in  this  noble  art.  The 
proof  of  it  is  found  in  a  record  that  endureth  for 
ever.  Though  the  Temple  at  Jerusalem  was  de- 
stroyed before  Greece  became  fully  adorned  with 
her  splendid  architecture,  the  plan  which  had  been 
given  by  inspiration  from  heaven,  and  according 
to  which  the  peerless  structure  was  built,  remains 
written  at  full  length  in  the  Hebrew  Scriptures. 
The  dimensions,  the  form  and  proportion  of  all  the 
parts  are  there  described  with  even  minute  exact- 
ness. Every  thing  that  could  impart  grandeur, 
grace,  or  symmetry  to  the  edifice,  and  which  made 
it  to  be  called  for  ages  "  the  excellency  of  beauty,'^ 
was  placed  in  the  imperishable  volume,  to  be  con- 
sulted by  all  nations,  and  in  all  ages.  And  we 
now  learn  that  the  architects  of  Greece  must  have 

made  it  their  study.     Wood,  in  his  work  entitled, 

14 


^^  FIFTH      LECTURE. 

f*The  origin  of  building,  and  the  plagiarisms  of  the 
heathen^  detected,"  has  placed  the  whole  subject  in 
such  tV  light  that  it  can  no  longer  be  ignored  by 
any  adinirer  of  the  arts;  nor  has  the  subject  rest- 
ed with  liiin.  That  accomplished  and  learned  ai-» 
chitect,  Wilkins,  has  proved  by  a  careful  compari- 
son, that  the  finest  specimen  of  architecture  which 
adorned  the  Acropolis  was  copied  from  the  Temple 
pn  Mount  Zion.  To  one  of  his  essays,  published 
^mong 'his  "Prolusiones  Architectonica^,"  he  has 
given  the  title  "  the  Temple  at  Jerusalem,  the  type 
of  Grepian  Architecture."  And  he  has  made  the 
4emo,gij|ration  as.  complete  as  the  language  of  such 
§ubjeij|;j5,  can  render  it. 

.  .  Jn.the  Classics,  every  writer  who  has  made 
himself  at  all  familiar  with  the  Greek  or  Roman 
poets.  Cijb^)L  give  page  after  page,  to  show  how  they 
Jiave|bjPqo wed  many  of  their  choice  beauties  from 
the  poetry  of  David,  Isaiah,  and  other  inspired  pro- 
phets, ..Sentiments  and  expressions  found  in  Ho- 
mer^ be^ir  such  a  resemblance  to  those  of  Scripture, 
that  gir  Walter  Raleigh  considers  it  as  beyond 
dispute  that  the  poet  must  have  been  familiar  with 
the  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  have  borrow- 


FIPTBt      LECTUKE.  ^2S 

ed  from  them  many  passages  word  for  word.  The 
close  resembhince  between  the  poetry  of  Virgil 
and  that  of  Isaiah  has  been  the  subject  of  univer- 
sal remark  among  the  admirers  of  classical  litera- 
ture 'The  subject  and  imagery  of  the  fourth  Ed- 
logue  are  so  evidently  drawn  from  the  writings  bl 
the  inspired  prophet,  that  the  learned  Bishop 
Lowth,  after  pondering  the  subject  with  close  at- 
tention, has  observed,  with  that  nice  discrimination 
which  belongs  to  him  as  a  critic,  that  he  finds  in 
this  Eclogue  such  an  unusual  swell  of  images 
from  a  pen  usually  restrained  and  correct,  that  it 
seems  to  have  diffused  a  foreiorn  coloring  over  the 
work ;  and  every  where  to  betray  an  acquaintance 
with  the  prophetic  descriptions  respecting  the  Mes- 
siah and  his  kingdom. 

In  Ethics,  the  chief  Greek  and  Roman  moral- 
ists, from  Plato  down,  show  an  indebtedness  to  the 
inspired  penmen  of  the  Bible,  so  obvious  and  so 
generally  acknowledged,  that  it  seems  scarce  worth 
while  to  do  more  than  allude  to  it.  Indeed,  to 
whatever  department  of  science  and  art  we  may 
turn  our  attention,  we  are  sure  to  meet  with  some 
new  argument  to  justify  the  sentiment  now  becoiri- 


-^4  FIFTH     LECTURE. 

ing  very  general,  that  "the  Hebrews  drank  of  the 

f fountain,  the  Greeks  from  the  stream,  and  the 
Romans  from  the  pooLV  iioiiJiid  v 

And  now  we  still  farther  ask :  what  could 
have  given  the  land  of  the  Hebrews  stich  a  distii!i- 
guished  pi(>eminence  ?  What  could  have  render- 
ed her  such  a  culminating  point  of  intellect  ?    How 

^  comes  it  to  pitss  that  such  a  vast  store-house  of 
thought,  intelligence  and  taste,  should  be  found  in 
her  of  which  we  have  no  trace  in  any  nation  pre- 
ceding her ;  and  from  which  the  cultivated  taste  oi 
subsequent  nations  borrowed  so  liberally?  From 
the  time  that  she  became  possessed  of  her  revela- 
tion from  Heaven,  its  in  the  days  of  David  and 
Solomon,  we  find  hei  shooting  up  as  far  above  the 
nations  around  her  in  literature  and  science  as  she 
was  distinguished  froiii  them  by  the  truth  and  di- 

!^  vinity  of  her  faith  and  worship.  Over  and  above 
the  learning  then  found  m  her  "  schools  of  the  Pro- 
phets," which  would  be  called  in  our  days  the  col- 
leges or  universities  of  the  land,  she  saw  on  her 
throne  a  king,  of  whom  we  are  told  that  "  his  wis- 
dom excelled   the  wisdom  of  the  children  of  the 

^^5gfti^0country,    and-  all    the   wisdom   of   Egypt;" 


FIFTH      LECTURE.  23& 

whose  cultivated  genius  rendered  him  a  master  in 
Proverbs  and  in  song ;  and  whose  expaiiJiive  mind 
so  pervaded  every  branch  of  physicial  science  that 
!f^he  spake  of  trees,  from  the  cedar  tree  that  is  in 
Lebanon,  even  unto  the  hyssop  that  fepringcth  out 
of  the  wall ;  he  spake  also  of  beasts,  and  of  fowl, 
and  of  creeping  things  and  of  fishes  ;'*  and  who,  as 
we  have  seen,  rendered  his  Capital  so  distinguished 
for  its-  architecture  as  to  furnish  models  for  those 
who  have  since  claimed  to  be  teachers  of  the  world 
in  that  branch  of  art.  The  fame  of  such  learning 
and  taste  we  should  remember  was  not  confined 
to  his  own  nation.  It  was  world  wide,  and  ren- 
dered the  city  of  Jerusalem,  in  which  he  held  his 
court,  a  place  of  more  universal  report  for  all  who 
sought  or  admired  intellectual  eminence,  than 
Athens  or  Rome,  or  Paris  and  London  in  later  ages 
of  the  world.  Sheba  sent  her  Queen,  accompanied 
by  "a  very  great  train ;"  and  her  example  was 
followed,  we  are  told,  till  "  all  the  kings  of  the 
earth  sought  to  Solomon  to  hear  his  wisdom, 
which  God  had  put  into  his  heart."  Egypt  herself 
is  named  as  seeking  intimate  intercourse  wdth  his 
court ;  nor  is  it  possible  to  believe  that  Greece, 


226  FIFTH     LECTUEE. 

lying  so  near  to  the  borders  of  his  empire,  could 
have   remained    ignorant   of  the   knowledge   arid 
taste  for  which  his  capital  was  so  distinguished. 
^^''Here  then,  we  have  a  great  starting  point  itf 
the  intelligence  of  our  race ;  and  I  ask  what  crkW- 
ed  this  resurrection  of  mind   in  the  Holy  Land. 
and   atnohg    the    nation    of  the  Hebrews?     The' 
banks  of  Jordan  were  as  green,  and  the  cedars  of 
Lebanon  were  as  lofty,  when  the  land  was  peopled' 
by  the  Hittite,  the  Amorite,  and  the  Perizzite,  as 
when  ruled  under  the  sceptre  of  the  Hebrew  kings : 
and  yet  while  those  nations  held  it,  from  border 
to  border,  "  darkness  covered  the  earth  and  gross^' 
darkness  the  people,"  both  in  mind  and  morals.    ^  '^^ 
I  In  answering  these  inquiries,  it  should  never  be 
forgotten,  as  one  of  the  cardinal  truths  of  histbry^I 
that  no  nation  ever  arose  from   degradation  and 
darkness  of  its  own  accord,  nor  until  roused  and 
excited  by  some  propitious  impulse  from  without 
and  beyond  itself;  and  if  you  will  survey  the  his-' 
tory  of  our  race  from  the  earliest  ages,  onward,'^ 
you  will  find  that  the  whole  world  was  sinking 
deeper  and  deeper  into  ignorance  and  corruption, 
until  the  Most    High  selected  the  Hebrew  nation: 


FIFTH     LECTURE.  ^^T 

9^  p,  fresh  depository  of  knowled^^e  from  luiiiself  ^^ 
^i^d  having  planted  them  in  the  hind  promised  tq 
their  fathers,  by  direqt  inspiration  made  them  ac-i 
(jijiainted  with  his  being,  his  attributes,  his  will 
apd  his  works.  , 

(  It  was  among  that  people  and  at  th^t  period 
ui.the  history  of  the  worl,d,  that  the  downward  ten- 
dency of  the  human  mind  was  first  arrested  andt 
stayed  ;  nor  is  there  any  explanation  either  in  fact 
or  philosophy  to  iiccount  for  the  up-rising  and  re- 
covery of  the  human  intellect  from  its  former  leth- 
argy,, which  then  took  place,  unless  we  ascribe  it 
to  the  influence  of  his  revealed  will  "  in  whom  are' 
hid  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge/' 
This,  indeed  iij  the  only  way  in  which  the  wondrou.: 
phenomenon  is  explained  by  .the  men  themselves 
who  were  the  subjects  of  it.  "  There  is  k  spirit  in 
man,  but  the  inspiration  of  the  Almighty  giveth 
them  understanding  ;" — ''  For  God  giveth  to  a  man 
that  is  good  in  his  sight,  wisdom  and  knowledge,'^ 
is  the  language  which  they  hold. 

Go  then  to  Greece  if  you  will,  to  find  the  splen- A 
did  displays  of  accomplished  masters  in  letters  and 
in  art.    Greece  will  herself  send  you  to  Judea,  and 


228  FIFTH      LECTURE. 

will  point  you  to  records  and  monuments  wliic^ 
show,  that  if  she  became  refined  and  learned  coitl- 
pared  with  the  nations  around  her,  it  was  because 
Judea  had  become  so  before  her.  Go  next  to  Judea 
and  ask  her  from  what  source  she  derived  the  ele^ 
ments  of  her  learning ;  and  she  will  point  neither 
to  earth  nor  any  nation  of  earth,  but  to  Heaven  and 
to  the  God  of  Heaven  ;  and  she  will  tell  you,  that 
if  she  can  claim  the  high  distinction  of  being  the 
first  among  the  nations  to  awake  the  long  dormant 
intellect  of  man,  arid  give  it  its  upward  tendency, 
it  was  *'  chiefly  because  that  unto  her  were  commit- 
ted the  oracles  of  God."  If  her  Moses  was  sent  to 
be  her  first  and  great  teacher,  to  sow  in  the  public 
mind  the  seeds  of  a  ripe  and  wide  spread  intelli- 
gence, it  was  not  simply  because  he  was  "  learned 
in  all  the  wisdom  of  Egypt ;"  learning  which  at 
that  day  was  crude,  superficial,  and  more  allied  to 
the  pretensions  of  sorcery  than  to  the  luminous 
depths  of  sound  knowledge.  He  was  not  qualified 
for  the  mission  he  was  sent  to  fulfil,  till  he  had 
first  gone  up  to  the  mount  of  Horeb,  and  there 
'*  talked  with  God  as  a  man  talketh  with  his  friend  ;'* 
and  came  down,  his  face  made  radiant  with  light 


FIFTH      LECTURE. 


%^ 


from  his  fellowship  with  the  wisdom  and  truth  oi' 
the  most  High  God.  If  her  David  awoke  the  song 
i0^  poetry  and  music  to  a  higher  strain  on  Mount 
'^ibttj  it  was  because  his  mind  was  elevated  to  the 
srdblime  task,  not  by  inspiration  from  Apollo,  btit 
t^om  Jehovah ;  and  if  her  Solomon  made  Jerusalem 
khe  great  radiating  point  of  learning  and  taste  to  all 
nations  in  his  day,  it  was  because  the  most  High 
Grod  "gave  him  wisdom  and  understanding  ex- 
ceeding much,  and  largeness  of  heart  even  as  is 
the  sand  which  is  upon  the  sea  shore." 
"«*^"The  eminence  in  Science  and  Art  gained  by 
Greece  and  Rome,  is  then  so  far  from  conflicting 
with  our  position  that  it  goes  rather  to  confirm  it. 
But  if  we  would  see  the  full  influence  of  divine 
truth  on  the  intellect  of  a  people,  as  displayed  m 
its  tendency  to  enlarge  the  boundaries  of  knowledge, 
we  should  view  it  not  in  the  imperfect  and  partial 
revelation  made  of  it  in  Old  Testament  times.  We 
must  consider  what  it  has  done  since  it  has  been 
given  to  the  world  as  a  finished  revelation.  With 
whom  then,  and  where  do  you  find  the  great  foun'^ 
tains  of  intelligence  and  wisdom  since  the  com- 
mencement of  the  Christian  era  ?  I  will  not  wait 


5i30  FIFTH      LECTURE. 

to  show  what  is  now  universally  admitted,  that  it 
was  owing  to  Christian  men  and  the  Christian  min- 
istry, that  the  lamp  of  learning  was  kept  from  utter 
extinction  during  the  dark  ages.  I  will  come  down 
to  times  when,  as  all  agree,  knowledge  received  an 
onward  impulse,  to  which  aforetime  she  had  been 
a  stranger.  No  greater  or  more  important  revolu- 
tion has  ever  taken  place  in  the  world  of  learning, 
,tha»  th,p  overthro;vf^of  Ae  tyranrjiy  long  exercised 
by  the  school  men  under  the  name  of  Aristotle,  and 
the  introduction  of  the  inductive  philosophy  which 
has  usually  been  distinguished  by  the  name  of'  Ba- 
con. We  claim  this  as  a  fruit  of  the  Bible,  and  are 
ready  to  go  into  the  proof,  showing  the  influence  of 
this  holy  book  in  emancipating  philosophy  from 
the  bondage  of  the  school  men,  and  in  bringing  her 
forth  not  only  to  enjoy  liberty  herself,  but  to  give 
civil  and  religious  liberty  to  men  and  to  nations. 

But  I  will  reserve  this  point  for  the  following 
Lecture,  and  will  at  present  allude  less  to  the  labors 
of  learned  men,  than  to  those  distinguished  seats 
of  learning  in  which  ripe  scholarship  has  been 
acquired,  and  which  are  scattered  throughout  Chris- 
tendom, as  depositories  of  truth  and  knowledgei^  / 


FIFTH     LECTURE.  231 

Who  then  are  the  acknowledged  founders  and 
patrons  of  them  all,  from  the  day  in  which  Charle- 
magne is  said  to  have  given  rise  to  the  University 
ol"  Paris,  down  to  the  latest  seminary  of  learning 
j,jWjiichhas  been  called  into  existence   in   our  own 
j,ypung  land  ?   There  is  no  earthly  honor  to  which  a 
,|>,Vire  ambition  can  aspire,  higher  than  that  of  hav- 
,4ng  created  these  well-springs  of  intellect,  which  go 
f  on,  generation  after  generation,  pouring  out  streams 
of  truth  to  the  world.    'Who  lue  the  public  benc^ 
,i.^^|:prs  that  can  claim  the  distinction?    Are  they 
jne^  who  have  been  moved  by  the  spirit  of  Chris- 
^,,tianity  or  of  Infidelity?    Enumerate  them  all  from 
1  the  magnanimous  Prince  just  named,  and  see  how 
,,.tjiey  will  rank. 

Did  Christianity  or  Infidelity  create  the  Uni- 
versities of  Cambridge,  Oxford,  Edinburgh,  Glas- 
gow, Leipsic,  Ley  den,  Utrecht,  Jena,  Tubingen, 
Gottingen,  Berlin  and  others  of  a  like  class  in  Eu- 
rope ?  Or  to  come  to  our  own  country :  who  created 
Harvard,  Yale,  Dartmouth,  Union,  Nassau  Hall, 
or  the  other  noble  Institutions  of  learning  which 
are  the  glory  of  our  land?  Their  founders  were 
men  who  were  firm  believers  in  the  ChristJAn  reli- 


232  FIFTH      LECTURE. 

gion  ;  men,  who,  understanding  the  close  alliance 
of  learning  and  Christianity,  gave  their  labors  and 
their  lives  to  establish  these  seats  of  science  for  the 
benefit  of  their  race  both  in  this  world  and  the 
world  to  come. 

And  now,  in  comparison  with  these  bright  con- 
stellations shedding  their  lustre  upon  a  dark  world, 
■■'  and  called  into  being  by  Christian  men,  and  as  the 
fruit  of  Christianity,  what  has  Infidelity  done? 
Where  are  her  monuments  of  devotedness  to  the 
cause  of  learning?  What  Universities  or  Colleges 
has  she  founded  and  nurtured  to  a  healthy  and  vi- 
gorous growth  ?  A  few  years  since,  she  might  per^ 
haps  have  pointed  to  one  at  which  she  had  tried 
her  hand.  But  the  result  of  the  short-lived  effort 
was  a  full  demonstration  that  a  seat  of  learning, 
though  patronized  by  a  name  of  world-wide  celeb- 
rity, and  though  sustained  by  the  munificence  of  a 
powerful  State,  dooms  itself  to  disappointment  and 
defeat  if  it  shuts  out  Christianity  from  its  halls. 
Even  our  youth  turned  away  from  the  unchristian 
institution  as  they  would  have  turned  from  a 
fountain  that  was  poisonous  and  deadly ;  nor  was 
it  till  a  branch  from  the  tree  of  life  was  cast  in 


FIFTH      LECTURE.  233 

for  the  healing  of  the  waters,  that  it  took  the 
honored  place  which  we  hope  it  will  long  sustain 
fimong  the  learned  Universities  of  the  nation.  Our 
thanks  are  due  to  the  men  Vvrho  have  enabled  it  to 
vindicate  its  claim  to  a  high  rank  among  Christian 
institutions,  by  issuing  from  its  halls  a  volume  re- 
plete with  sound  argument  in  defence  of  that  Gos- 
pel which  many  once  feared  it  might  have  assailed 
with  fearftil  consequences  to  coming  generations, 
m  Another  has  been  attempted,  with  indications 
of  hostility  to  Religion  so  decided  and  marked  as 
to  require  a  special  notice.  Its  founder  selected 
the  orphans  as  the  objects  of  his  bounty,  and  be- 
queathed a  liberal  endowment  for  their  education, 
with  a  provision  carefully  expressed  to  shut  out 
from- the  institution  both  the  religion  and  the 
ministry  of  Him  who  is  the  orphan's  God.  The 
scheme  is  among  the  most  unblushing  attempts 
ever  made  against  the  truth  of  Heaven.  It  stands 
out  from  the  other  deeds  of  men  as  a  prodigy  of 
hardihood  and  guilt,  when  a  man  sits  down,  and 
with  death,  judgment  and  eternity  in  his  viewj 
bequeaths  the  vast  wealth  he  has  amassed,  to  ere- 
mite a  seminary  of  learning  which  would  tend  to 


234  FIFTH     LECTURE. 

dishonor  the  God  of  truth,  and  to  lead  astray  the 
young,  whose  flithers  and  mothers  are  in  the  grave, 
by  teaching  them  to  ignore  that  gospel  which  alone 
is  able  to  make  young  or  old  wise  unto  salvation. 
And  what  has  been  the  result?  For  years,  to  use 
the  language  of  a  distinguished  Counsellor,  ''such'  ^ 
were  the  strange  entanglements  attending  every 
step  in  carrying  the  device  into  execution,  that  the  ' 
plan,  the  scheme,  seemed  unblessed  in  aH  its  pur- 
poses ;"  and  many  began  to  fear  lest  the  prediction 
would  be  fulfilled,  that  "while  it  lived  it  would 
lead  a  vexed  and  troubled  life,  and  leave  an  un- 
blessed memory  when  it  died." 

But  He  who  has  styled  himself  the  Father  of 
the  fatherless,  claims  it  as  his  own  prerogative 
that  "he  disappointeth  the  devices  of  the  crafty,  so 
that  their  hands  cannot  perform  their  enterprise; 
that  he  taketh  the  wise  in  their  own  craftiness, 
and  the  counsel  of  the  fro  ward  is  carried  headlong." 
Whatever  may  have  been  the  design  of  man  in  cre- 
ating the  endowment,  "  God  meant  it  unto  good.*' 
Under  his  over-ruling  hand,  the  devise  was  made  a 
trust  to  a  christian  city;  and  with  much  credit  to 
herself,  her   municipal    authorities   have   taken   a 


FIFTH     LECTURE.  235 

wise  care  that  if  ministers  of  the  gospel  are  to  be 
excluded  from  the  walls  of  the  institution,  the  gos- 
pel itself  shall  be  there ;  and  that  all  the  depart- 
ments of  instruction  shall  be  under  the  care  ol 
christian  men,  who  honor  and  teach  the  Bible  as 
the  inspired  word  of  God. 

Had  it  been  otherwise,  the  endowment  had 
never  escaped  from  the  various  perplexities  and  ob- 
stacles  th*t  lay  in  its  way ;  or  it  must  have  given 
rise  to  an  institution  that  would  have  done  as  little 
service  for  sound  education  as  for  sound  Christi- 
anity. It  would  have  been  powerful  only  for  evil. 
"Do  men  gather  grapes  of  thorns,  or  figs  of  this- 
tles T^  Just  as  soon  can  the  sacred  cause  of  learn- 
ing bte  sustained  by  infidelity.  The  cold  creed  can 
warm  the  heart  to  nothing  generous  and  noble.  It 
inspires  no  sentiments  of  enlarged  forethought  and 
liberality,  of  love  to  God  or  love  to  man.  It  can 
educate  the  heart  only  to  selfishness  and  sensuality. 
If  it  does  not  enfeeble  the  intellectual  powers,  it 
distracts  and  distorts  them.  If  it  stimulates  them 
to  activity,  the  action  is  wild  and  convulsive,  and 
of  course  dangerous  to  the  man  himself  and  to  all 
around  him.    There  is  no  regulating  power  pervad- 


236  FIFTH      LECTUHE. 

ing  and  controling  the  whole  framework  of  the 
soul,  and  turning  it  towards  truth,  as  the  needle 
turns  to  the  pole. 

But  let  the  life-giving,  life-diffusing  influence  oi 
Christianity  be  felt  in  the  cultivation  and  spread  of 
kuow^ledge,  and  what  a  healthful  expansion  of 
iikind  and  heart,  of  thought  and  feeling  do  we  see. 
You  may  plant  the  most  precious  seeds  in  the  rich- 
est ^soil  ;  but  if  they  be  under  a  covering  where  the 
rays  of  the  sun  seldom,  if  ever,  reach  them,  their 
gi-owth  will  be  feeble,  sickly  and  deformed  ;  per- 
haps putting  forth  their  pale  shoots  into  every  fan- 
tastic shape,  yet  never  rising  into  strength,  beauty 
or  fruitfulness.  But  remove  the  covering  that  keeps 
away  the  genial  light  and  heat  dispensed  by  the 
sun  in  the  heavens,  and  what  a  verdant  healthful- 
ness,  what  a  ripening  strength  at  once  appears  in 
the  before  sickly  and  imprisoned  plant.  Such  is 
the  influence  of  the  Gospel  on  the  intellect  of  man 
in  unfolding  its  powers,  and  nurturing  them  to 
strength  and  maturity.  It  is  the  same  word  of 
God,  which  ''  in  the  beginning,"  when  "  darkness 
was  upon  the  face  of  the  deep,"  was  heard  saying 
**  let   there  be   light,  and   there  was   light ;"    and 


FIFTH      LECTURE.  237 

which  day  after  day,  during  the  work  of  creation, 
brought  into  activity  the  various  Ibrms  of  life,  till 
there  was  produced  a  finished  world,  "all  very 
good."  And  "  as  it  was  in  the  beginning,  it  is  now, 
and  ever  shall  be."  Throughout  all  ages  of  time 
it  has  been  the  good  pleasure  of  God  to  "mag- 
nify his  word  above  all  his  name."  Wherever  it 
"has  free  course  and  is  glorified, "it  evokes  light 
from  darkness;  it  disinthralls,  unchains,  and  calls 
into  activity  the  previously  stifled  and  dormant  fac- 
ulties of  the  mind.  Shame  on  the  small  talk  of  still 
smaller  men,  that  call  the  Bible  a  sectarian  book. 
It  is  the  book  of  the  human  soul,  made  by  Him 
who  made  the  soul ;  and  so  made  in  his  wisdom, 
that  all  its  verities  correspond  with  the  wants, 
the  wishes,  and  the  happiness  of  which  the  soul 
is  most  conscious.  It  is  a  glass  in  which  man  sees 
himself.  It  is  the  voice  of  God  communing  with 
the  spirit  which  he  once  made  in  his  own  image, 
to  wake  up  its  faculties  into  a  resurrection  of  their 
once  departed  strength ;  and  so  far  as  its  power  is 
felt,  so  widely  as  the  book  is  spread,  this  effect  is 
seen  upon  the  learned  and  unlearned.  Look  at 
our  own  age  of  the  world,  which  j^  the  brightest 


238  FIFTH      LECTURE. 

Bible  day  it  has  ever  seen.  At  no  previous  period 
has  the  holy  book  been  carried  abroad,  so  speedily, 
as  if  on  the  wings  of  the  w^ind ;  nor  have  the  re- 
searches of  travelers,  and  the  hibors  of  the  learned, 
ever  done  so  much  in  so  short  a  time  to  illustrate 
its  pages,  as  within  the  last  fifty  years.  And,  as  if 
the  breeze  that  bears  onward  the  sacred  volume, 
fanned  into  brightness  the  before  sleeping  embers 
of  intellect ;  as  though  the  book  would  instantly 
repay  a  hundred  fold  every  illustration  its  truths 
receive  from  the  investigations  of  science ;  never 
before  did  the  world  see  a  period  of  intellectual 
energy  like  the  present.  Man  now  reads  the  stars 
and  suns  of  other  worlds  above  us,  till  he  seems 
familiar  with  them  as  with  the  planet  on  which 
he  dwells.  He  finds  his  way  into  the  deep  re- 
cesses of  the  earth  beneath  his  feet,  and  brings 
up  from  the  mines,  which  grow  richer  as  he  goes 
deepeivexhaustless  stores,  which  ever- improving  art 
fashions  and  applies  to  multiply  his  comforts  and 
gratify  his  taste.  He  has  subjected  the  subtle  va- 
por of  steam  to  his  dominion,  and  makes  it  bear 
l^im  ^nd  his  wealth  over  earth  and  sea  with  the 
speed  of  an  eagle.     He  makes  the  very  lightning 


FIFTH      LECTURE.  23D 

the  messenger  of  his  thoughts  to  distant  cities  and 
nations,  with  a  rapidity  that  outstrips  the  wind. 
And  then,  while  science  is  doing  all  this  for  the 
more  happy  and  powerful  of  the  human  flimily, 
see  what  she  does  for  the  more  bereaved  and  help- 
less. She  has  invented  letters  that  the  blind  can 
read,  a  language  that  the  deaf  can  understand  ; 
and  who  shall  say  that,  having,  in  a  sense  far  from 
profane  made  "  the  blind  to  see,  and  the  deaf  to 
hear,"  she  may  not  also  er»  long  make  "  the  tongue 
of  the  dumb  to  sing  V\ 

Let  no  man  say  these  things  are  but  the  fruit 
of  the  world's  advancement  in  years,  and  that  it 
grows  wiser  because  it  grows  older.  The  world 
grows  old  as  fast  in  China  or  Africa,  as  in  Europe 
or  America;  and  what  is  the  fruit  of  its  age  in 
those  ijjnorant  and  de<?raded  countries !  Their  in- 
habitants,  generation  after  generation,  have  sunk 
deeper  and  deeper  into  ignorance  and  misery.  It 
requires  but  a  moment's  reflection  to  show  all  who 
are  willing  to  see,  that  this  wondrous  development 
of  mind  in  our  day  is  found  where  you  find  the 
Bible,  and  is  found  nowhere  else.  That  which 
"makes  us  to  differ"  is,  that  we  have  the  Bible, 


»40  FIFTH     LECTURE. 

aiid  they  have  it  not.     We  have  it  in  our  secret 

chambers ;  we  have  it  in  our  families  ;  we  have  it 
I, 
in  our  schools,  and  in  all  our  other  and  higher  seats 

^  of  learning.     Our  old  and  our  young,  our  rich  aiid 
our  poor,  our  learned  and  our  unlearned  read  and 
^  linderstand  it.  '^X 

^^  "To  what  fresh  expansions  of  intellect,  to  what 
'^kew  discoveries  in  art  and  science,  to  what  greater 
'^improvements  in  the  power  and  refinement  of  m^h, 
this  general  difiUsion  of  the   Bible  may  yet  ledd, 
Time  alone  can  reveal.     But  we  doubt  if  there  be 
'^^Ji^  man  who  observes  and  understands  the  present 
^^indications  of  mind,  its  lofty  aspirations,  its  Argus 
^  *4ye,  its  Herculean  grasp,  who  will  not  own,  that 
•    we  are  but  on  the  threshold  of  those  greater  dis- 
*'  ooveries  which  are  yet  to  unlock  the  still  hidden 
■    powers  of  nature,,  and  to  subdue  and  apply  them 
^'  still  farther  to  the   comfort  and  improvement   of 
mankind.    The  fabled  fertility  of  a  Minerva's  brain 
is   fast  becoming  reality  and  truth  in  the  Bible- 
awakened  intellect  of  man.    What  is  new  to-day 
becomes  old  to-morrow,  because  of  some  still  more 
new, discovery  to  which  the  interval  has  given  birth. 
We  are  no  longer  warranted  to  smile  with  scorn. 


FIFTH     LECTURK.  .^,^1 

at  projects,  because  they  are  new.  Too  often  we 
have  done  so,  creating  pain  and  discouragement  to 
the  gifted  men  whose  new  inventions  have  changed 
the  w^hole  aspect  of  our  age,  in  the  rapid  spread  of 
intelligence,  and  wide  diffusion  of  human  comfoit 
Unbelief  in  every  form,  whether  it  relates  to  man's 
happiness  in  this  world,  or  the  world  to  come,  is  re- 
buked by  the  Bible.  In  the  Bible  too,  it  may  fijid 
its  cure ;  for,  as  we  have  now  seen,  wherever  the 
holy  book  is  carried,  it  acts  like  the  wonder-work- 
ing rod  of  Moses,  the  rod  of  God's  strength.  By  it 
nations  are  redeemed  from  that  worse  than  Egyp- 
tian bondage,  the  bondage  of  ignorance ;  and  in  their 
progress  towards  the  promised  inheritance,  the  Red 
Sea  through  which  they  pass  becomes  the  scene  of 
new  triumphs  ;  and  the  rock  and  sands  of  the  desert 
both  yield  their  tribute  to  man's  wdfare,  when 
touched  by  this  Heaven-ordained  instrument  of 
wisdom  and  power.  UmAakm 


•v.f^fr.: 

a 

'   '.-na 

ff  c»f:, 

M> 

,.^     f,^-l, 

>'^ 

sassi  asisias, 


d£IU 


The  Prejudice  that  extensive  Learnmg  is  hostile  to  the 
Spirit  of  true  Piety. 


Mark,  viii.  24. 


^^  And  lie  looked  up  and  said,  I  see  men,  as  trees, 
walhingJ^ 

At  the  dawn  of  day  every  thing  is  seen  indis- 
tinct! j^  The  forms  and  relations  of  objects,  great 
and  small,  are  not  fully  perceived ;  and  the  imagi- 
nation,  acting  on  the  shadowy  outlines  before  it, 
often  creates  needless  alarms  at  that  which  as  yet 
is  dimly  comprehended.  It  is  not  easy  to  conceive 
the  confusion  and  mischief  that  must  ensue  were 
men  to  act,  through  the  day,  on  the  visions  thus 
obtained,  and  were  they  not  to  allow  their  miscon- 
ceptions to  be  corrected  by  the  clear  light  of  the 
gnn,  as  it  brightens  into  perfect  day.  So  it  is  in 
the  worlds  of  Science  and  Religion.  "When  re- 
ligious truth  began  to  emerge  from  the  darkness 
that   had   covered   it  for  ages;  not  a  few  of  the 


SIXTH      LECTURE.  343 

learned  at  first  resisted  its  claims,  from  mistaken 
and  unjust  views  of  what  the  Scriptures  teach. 
And  in  like  manner,  while  the  truths  of  Science 
were  as'  yet  but  partially  brought  to  light,  they 
have  often  been  suspected  and  opposed  by  Chris- 
tians, as  subversive  of  revelation ;  while  a  more 
perfect  acquaintance  with  them  has  shown  their 
great  value  in  developing  new  beauties  and  a 
richer  meaning -in  the  sacred  volume.  The  error 
with  both  parties  arises  from  a  want  of  knowledge, 
from  imperfect  vision.  Like  the  man  described  in 
the  text,  who  "  saw  men,  as  trees,  walking,"  they 
have  no  adequate  comprehension  of  the  true  form 
and  the  mutual  relations  of  what  lies  before  them. 
^,  It  is  to  be  lamented  that  much  of  this  miscon- 
ception  and  injustice  still  prevails  with  many 
devout  men,  who  look  upon  science  and  philoso- 
phy as  antagonistic  to  the  Bible,  who  seem  to 
tremble  for  the  safety  of  the  ark  of  God  when  it  in 
touched  by  the  hands  of  the  learned ;  and  are  thus 
led  to  look  for  an  enemy  among  those  who  come  to 
act  as  friends  and  auxiliaries  to  the  cause  of  truth. 
This  dream  has  led  to  disastrous  consequences  to; 
both    Science  and  Religion;  and   it  would   be  a. 


^M^  SIXTH      LECTURE. 

valuable  service  to  both,  if  the  prejudice  could  Jbe 
dispelled.  We  will  devote  the  present  lecture  to 
that  object. 
[fj '!  That  the  apprehension  to  which  I  refer  is  a 
mere  prejudice,  must  be  evident  from  what  has 
been  already  proved  respecting  the  number  and 
rank  of  the  learned,  who  have  been,  not  only  the 
advocates,  but  the  ornaments  of  Christianity.  We 
hold  it  as  fully  made  out  by  the  names  placed 
before  you  in  a  previous  Lecture,  that  men  of  pro- 
found learning,  according  to  their  number  when 
compared  with  other  classes  of  mankind,  have  fur- 
nished their  full  proportion  to  the  ranks  of  Chris- 
tians ;  Christians  not  only  in  name,  bat  in  sinceri- 
ty and  truth.  As  we  are  to  judge  of  the  tree  by 
its  fruits,  this  could  not  have  been  the  case  had 
learning,  in  its  nature,  been  opposed  to  the  genuine 
spirit  of  the  Gospel. 

It  is,  however,  by  no  means  surprising  that  this 
prejudice  should  exist.  There  was  a  time  when 
there  was  not  only  something,  but  much,  in  the 
nature  and  spirit  of  learning  as  then  pursued, 
which  was  exceedingly  opposed  to  the  Grospel,  both 
as  to  its  doctrines  and  its  mode  of  teaching  thein. 


SIXTH     LECTURE.  '-^5 

-There  was  a  time  when  to  philosophize   and  ^to 
'  pUiy  the  sophist,  were  convertible  terms ;  whea  the 
great  amount  of  what  passed  with  the  world 'fer 
A^scieilce,  was  "  science  falsely  so  called,"  as  Paul 
Pteriiis  it.     And  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  many 
{>C)tf  the  earliest  corruptions  which  defaced  th6  'yet 
"'ftesh  beauty  of  Christianity,  as  she  came  iOf>tis 
fix)m  Heaven,  sprung  from  the  philosophy  oftHofee 
days;  from  the  impious  attempt  to  unite  theA^'/*liy 
bringing  her  down  to  it,  instead  of  bringing  it  tip 
to   her.      Hence    the   warnings   and   dechxratiolis 
which  you  find  in  such  abundance  from  the  Ap(^fe- 
tles.    "  Beware  lest  any  man  spoil  you  through  phi- 
losophy and  vain  deceit,  after  the  tradition  of  meA, 
■after  the   rudiments   of  the  world."     And  agaih, 
I  ^*  avoid   profane  and  vain   babblings,  and   opposi- 
tions of  science  falsely  so  called ;  which  some  pro- 
fessing, have  erred  concerning  the   faith."     With 
the  same  view,  after  Paul  has  stated  the  fact,  that 
^*not  many  wise  men  after  the  flesh  are  called,"  he 
declares   concerning  the   Grospel,  that  it  was  not 
.revealed  in  "the  wisdom  of  words,"  or  "with  e'ft- 
'ticing   words   of  man's   wisdom."     His   language 
gives  an  admirable  description  of  the  philosophy 


246  SIXTH     LECTURE. 

that  prevailed  in  his  day.  The  master  in  dialec* 
tics,  to  wliom  all  philosophers  then  bowed,  was 
Aristotle.  His  dominion  over  the  intellectual 
world  was  absolute  and  unquestioned,  like  that  of 
his  royal  pupil,  Alexander  the  Conqueror,  over  the 
nations  subdued  by  his  sword.  But  while  the  em- 
pire of  the  one  crumbled  into  fragments  at  his 
death,  the  dominion  of  the  other  endured  through 
hundreds  and  hundreds  of  years,  and  at  no  period 
of  time  had  his  scholastic  sway  been  carried  to  a 
more  extravagant  extent  among  the  learned,  than 
•  during  the  early  ages  of  Christianity.  The  great 
object  of  the  Logicians  was  less  to  elicit  truth 
than  to  perplex  and  confound  their  adversaries. 
There  was  no  such  thing  as  a  healthful  spirit  of 
inquiry.  The  dogmas  of  a  master  it  was  treasona- 
ble in  any  of  his  pupils  to  question;  and  they 
were  required  to  contend  for  them,  not  as  lovers  of 
truth,  but  as  champions  of  their  sect.  The  great 
objects  of  research  were  too  generally  those  remote 
and  vain  abstractions  which  are  of  no  avail  for 
the  benefit  of  man,  and,  even  when  settled,  serve 
only  to  multiply  points  of  hostility  between  rival 
schools.      Their   wisdom    was    the    "  wisdom    of 


SIXTH     LECTURE.  247 

words."  not  of  things;  much  of  it  was  "vain 
deceit,''  not  the  illumination  of  the  mind  with  the 
realities  of  truth. 

This  heing  the  state  of  learning  in  the  days  of 
the  apostles,  especially  in  those  parts  of  the  world 
where  the  Gospel  was  first  planted  ;  there  can  be 
no  doubt  that  it  generated  a  spirit  of  pride  and 
!  self-sufficiency,  a  love  of  hypothesis  and  specula- 
i.tion,  a  contempt  for  whatever  was  plain  and  prac- 
tical, at  war  with  the  spirit  and  truth  of  Christi- 
,  anity  ;   and   every  reader  of  ecclesiastical  history 
must  know  that  the  heresies  which  afflicted  the 
Clmrch  in  the  early  centuries  sprung,  as  already 
observed,  from  this  "  philosophy  and  vain  deceit," 
against  which  the  apostle  so  earnestly  warned  the 
churches. 

But  learning  is  not  now  what  it  was  then ;  and 
had  it  remained  unchanged  in  form  and  spirit,  we 
could  not  have  shown  you  the  bright  constellation 
of  names  which  we  formerly  recited,  of  men  who 
have  been  leaders  in  science,  and  at  the  same  time 
humble  and  meek  disciples  of  the  Saviour.  As 
will  be  obvious  from  a  brief  comparison  of  its  past 
with  its  present  condition  and  character,  learning 


^48  SIXTH      LECTURE. 

htis  passed  through  a  revolution  in  modern  times, 
as  complete  and  decisive  as  ever  took  pUxce  in  the 
civil  relations  of  empires  or  nations.  It  has  seen 
the  overthrow,  on  the  one  hand,  of  a  philosophy 
w^hich  blindly  bowed  to  the  authority  of  a  master, 
and  spent  its  strength  in  speculative  theories,  es- 
teeming its  discoveries  valuable,  in  proportion  as 
they  were  abstract  and  remote  from  the  compre- 
hension of  the  mass  of  mankind  ;  and  the  intro- 
duction, on  the  other  hand,  of  science,  which  looks  to 
the  realities  of  life,  which  makes  facts,  ascertained 
by  observation  or  experiment,  the  data  from  which 
it  reasons,  and  then  shows  how  its  conclusions  arc 
to  be  improved  for  the  practical  benefit  of  man. 
The  contrast  between  the  two  systems  has  been  so 
graphically  exhibited  by  one  of  the  most  powerful 
writers  of  our  day,  that  I  cannot  do  better  than 
quote  it  at  some  length.  In  his  review  of  Bacon 
and  the  Inductive  Philosophy  he  says,  "  The  phi- 
losophy of  the  ancients  was  a  philosophy  of  words  ; 
ours  is  a  philosophy  of  works.  They  taught  that 
man  was  made  for  philosophy ;  we  hold  that  phi- 
losophy was  made  for  man.  Their  faith  in  science, 
r;  being   without  works,  was   dead ;   our   faith,   by 


SIXTH     LECTURE.  240 

works,  is  made  perfect.    They  prized  a  discovery 
according  as  it  was  mystic  and  ethereal,  and  con- 
fined  to  the  knowledge  of  a  chosen  few ;  we  hold  a 
discovery  valuable  according  as  we  find  it  not  only 
g^und  in  theory,  but  plain  and  intelligible  to  all. 
They  divided  their  doctrines  into  esoteric  and  exot- 
eric ;  the  one  to  be  kept  to  themselves,  tlie  other  to 
be  given  to  the  people.     Their  constant  effort  was 
to  extend  the  limits  of  the  one,  and  contract  the 
limits  of  the  other;  crowding  men  farther  and  far- 
ther from  the  temple  of  truth.  We  surround  know- 
ledge with  no  such  boundaries   or  barriers.    We 
view  it  as  we  view  the  light;  the  farther  its  rays 
are  spread,  the  more  bright  and  healthful  the  light 
itself  becomes.    They  disdained  to  be  useful ;  their 
schools   regarded   utility  as   degrading ;    some   of 
them  even  as  immoral.     To  be  useful  to  the  great- 
est possible  extent,  and  to  the  greatest  number,  we 
esteem  the  highest  and  best  end  of   all  learning. 
Their   very  fables   indicate   the   same   spirit,   the 
Same  aversion  to  have  knowledge  applied  to  its 
practical  ends.    Prometheus  was  known  as  the  in- 
ventor of  several  most  useful  arts.     A.s  if  in  requi- 
tal, they  represent  him  as  chained  to  a  rock.    We 


250  SIXTH  .   LECTURE. 

bestow  fame,  fortune  and  rank,  for  useful  inven- 
tions, and  hold  up  our  Pranklins  and  F  nitons,  our 
Boltons  and  Arkwrights,  as  benefactors  of  theii 
race.  Plato,  in  his  Republic,  recommends  the  stu- 
dy of  Geometry,  because  it  leads  to  the  know- 
ledge of  abstract  and  essential  truth ;  but  declares 
the  science  degraded,  if  applied  to  the  practical 
purposes  of  life.  We  consider  Geometry  as  highly 
honored  when  we  can  apply  her  great  principles 
to  conduct  the  streams  of  water  to  our  tables  and 
our  chambers.  When  Archimedes  discovered  the 
principles  of  the  lever  and  pulley,  he  was  a  proud 
man,  while  repeating  the  train  of  demonstration 
by  which  he  arrived  at  his  conclusion ;  but  he 
acted  like  a  man  half  ashamed  of  himself  and  of 
his  discovery,  when  he  saw  it  applied  in  those 
powerful  machines  which  astonished  and  baffled 
the  invaders  of  his  city.  We  glory  in  putting  the 
lever  and  the  pulley  into  the  hands  of  the  me- 
chanic and  laborer,  and  in  showing  him  how  to 
use  them  to  remove  mountains,  and  convert  the 
rock  into  palaces  and  fortresses.  In  a  word,  we 
employ  Science  in  all  its  forms  to  relieve  our 
fellow  men  from  the  drudgery  that  once  rendered 


SIXTH     LECTURE.  251 

thein  mere  machines,  and  palsied  their  powers  as 
rational  creatures;  their  powers  of  mind  and  re- 
flection." 

This  is  learning  from  which  Christianity  has 
nothing  to  fear,  but  much  to  hope.  But  here  arises 
the  very  important  inquiry:  What  produced  this 
great  revolution  in  philosophy  ?  What  effected  or 
mainly  contributed  to  effect  its  liberation  from 
its  former  "doting  about  questions  and  strifes  ol 
wrds,"  its  former  "  profane  babblings  and  opposi-  '' 
tions  of  science,  falsely  so  called  V 

,    We  are  fully  sensible  of  the  truth  which  cannot 
be  too  often  repeated,  that  the  great  value  of  the 
Bible  lies  in  its  bringing  to  light  the  way  of  sal- 
vation through  a  Redeemer  for  lost  man.     But  it 
does  not  bear  the  less  favorably  on  his  welfare  and    u 
iijnprovement  as  an  inhabitant  of  this  world,  be-  ( 
cause  its  main  object  is  to  prepare  him  for  the 
blessedness  of  heaven.    Like  the  godliness  which 
it  enjoins,  it  "  is  profitable  unto  all  things,  hav- 
ing the  promise  of  the  life  that  now  is,  and  that  ^ 
which  is  to  come."  "  All  scripture  is  given  by  inspi- 
ration of  God,  and  is  profitable  for  doctrine,  for 
reproof,  for  correction,  for  instruction  in  righteous- 


252  SIXTH     LECTURE. 

ness ;  that  the  man  of  God  may  be  perfect,  tho- 
roughly furnished  unto  all  good  works."  Accord- 
ingly its  influence  is  seen  in  the  improvement  it 
effects  in  every  power  and  faculty  of  man  as  a  ra- 
tional and  immortal  creature.  In  our  last  lecture 
we  have  shown  how  it  acted  upon  our  race  in 
waking  up  and  invigorating  the  intellect,  impart- 
ing to  it  both  higher  aims  and  larger  powers  in 
various  branches  of  science,  to  which  we  then  re- 
ferred. We  may  find  another  proof  of  its  benefi- 
cent influence  on  the  human  mind,  when  we  an- 
swer the  inquiry  which  we  have  raised  respecting 
the  revolution  which  rescued  philosophy  from  the 
bondage  of  the  Schoolmen,  and  gave  her  the  liber- 
ty and  the  power  for  good  which  she  now  enjoys. 
In  its  mode  of  presenting  truth  to  our  view,  the 
Bible  contains  in  itself  a  most  beautiful  model  of 
what  is  known  as  sound  inductive  philosophy.  As 
the  great  distinction  of  this  philosophy,  consists  in 
its  drawing  its  conclusions  or  doctrines  from  facts, 
and  then  carrying  them  out  to  their  practical  re- 
sults ;  so  it  should  be  observed  does  this  principle 
underlie  all  the  great  teachings  of  the  Bible.  It 
draws  its  doctrines  from  facts  fully  and  patiently 


SIXTH      LECTURE.  253 

stated,  and  carries  them  out  to  their  uses  in  regu- 
hiting  our  practice.  In  this  way  the  Redeemer 
repeatedly  argues  the  doctrine  of  his  own  divine 
mission.  "  The  works  that  I  do,"  lie  says,  "  bear 
witness  of  me,  that  the  Father  hath  sent  me ;"  and 
he  adds,  "  Believe  me  for  the  very  works  sake."  In 
like  manner,  does  he  reply  to  the  disciples  of  John, 
who  sent  to  him  inquiring,  "Art  thou  he  that 
should  come,  or  do  we  look  for  another?"  The 
reply  is,  "  Go  show  John  those  things  which  ye  do 
hear  and  see.  The  blind  receive  their  sight,  and  ' 
the  lame  walk,  the  lepers  are  cleansed  and  thj 
deaf  hear,  the  dead  are  raised  up,  and  the  poor 
have  the  gospel  preached  to  them."  This  tends  to 
explain,  why  you  find  the  greater  portion  of  the  i^ 
inspired  pages  written  in  vthe  form  of  history,  in  a 
lucid  exhibition  of  what  has  actually  occurred 
among  the  various  generations  of  our  race.  It  be- 
gins by  reciting  in  varied  story  what  man  has 
done  and  suffered,  and  thus  infers  his  fall  from  rec- 
titude, and  his  departure  from  God  ;  his  need  of  a 
Saviour,  and  the  nature  of  the  salvation  which  he 
needs.     It  also  tells  us  in  various'  forms,  what  the 

Saviour  has  done,  whence  he  came,  and  whither 

16 


J^54  SIXTH      LECTURE. 

he  has  gone;  and  thence  draws  in  conclusion, 
every  doctrine  entering  into  the  gospel  schema, 
and  shows  us,  from  the  whole,  how  faith  in  thesfe 
doctrines  should  influence  our  practice.  We  find 
a  beautiful  exemplification  of  all  this  in  the  Episi- 
tie  to  the  Romans.  viil 

»)  n  And  now,  with  this  Bible  in  our  hands,  so  con- 
structed by  its  divine  Author  in  its  mode  of  reveal- 
ing, establishing  and  applying  sacred  truth,  as  to 
have  embodied  in  itself  the  great  principles  of  in- 
ductive reasoning,  we  may  well  suppose  it  to  have 
fexercised  a  powerful  influence  in  effecting  the 
great  revolution  in  learning  from  which,  as  we 
have  seen,  the  world  is  at  this  day  reaping  such 
ivast  benefits.  I  am  aware  of  the  high  distinction 
which  belongs  to  one  name,  in  this  great  achieve- 
inent;  nor  would  I  take  from  Bacon  one  iota  of 
the  praise  which  belongs  to  him,  as  one  of  the 
great  intellectual  lights  of  the  world.  I  will  not 
assail  his  claim  to  be  denominated  the  Father  of 
Inductive  Philosophy,  as  applied  to  the  great  prac- 
tical purposes  of  life.  In  pointing  out  its  uses,  and 
predicting  its  results,  he  stands  upon  an  elevation 
which  l3Le'shoul4   be  allowed  to  occupy  without 


SIXTH      LECTURK. 

question  or  dispute.  His  capacious  mind  was  able 
to  take  in  the  whole  range  of  sciences,  and  to  see 
how  they  could  be  made  productive  of  good  by  ap- 
plying to  them  the  principles  which  he  was  con*. 
Btantly  exhibiting  in  some  new  and  important 
light.  The  object  which  he  proposed  was,  £is  lie 
himself  says,  "not  only  knowledge,  but  /fruit 
from  knowledge,  so  as  to  effect  the  relief  of  man's 
-estate."  And  most  effectively  did  he  contribute  to 
the  accomplishment  of  his,  noble  design. 

But  as  there  were  Refonners  in  the  Church 
before  the  Reformation,  so  was  it  also  in  the  world 
of  philosophy.  There  were  men  before  Bacon's 
day,  who  appeared  as  the  day  spring  of  coming 
brightness,  as  the  preparers  of  the  way,  the  John 
the  Baptists  of  a  new  dispensation  in  the  progress 
of  knowledge.  And  though  in  their  labors  they 
sometimes  appear  like  men  struggling  to  free  them- 
selves from  chains,  or  like  men  groping  their  way 
out  of  darkness,  yet  they  are  not  the  less  to  be  esr 
teemed  •  as  the  fore-runners  of  coming  liberty  and 
light. 

Little  however  had  been  accomplished  until 
the  Reformation  took  place,  emphatically  known 


„^6  SIXTH      LECTUBE, 

» ■■',.,  ,  .'    ■  ,         '     '  ■ 

by  that  name;  and  it  was  the  mighty  men  distin- 
guislied  r  in  history  as  the  Reformers,  who  gaye 
that  ^ first,  gigantic  hlow  to  the  tyranny  of  the 
Schoohnen,  which  set  learning  free  from  the  irpn 
thraldom  of  scholasticism,  and  qpened  the  way  fqr 
the  spread  of  a  philosophy  which  all  science  no\y 
follows  ai^d  honors.,  yrom  the  day  w^en  Luther 
took  jthe  solemn  path,  **  I  swear  to  defend  the  trutli 
of  the  gospel  with  all  my  strength,"  and  was  made 
Bit)lip^l  Doctor,  he  felt. himself  hound  to  makeja 
full  acquaintanpe  with  the  Bible  his  great  object. 
The  Scriptures  accordingly  became  his  constant 
sjtudy,  the  aliment  of  his  mind,  both  the  model 
and  material  of  his  thought.  He  not  only  drank 
in  their  spirit,. and  their  doctrines,  but  their  modes 
of,  argument,  of  illustration  and  of  applicatioi^. 
He  felt  as  they  inspired  him  to  feel,  and  taught 
a^  they  showed  him  how  to  teach.  He  soon  found 
how,  greatly  they  differed  in  all  these  respects  from 
the  Schoolmen,  whom  he  had  formerly  studied 
with  great  care,  and  who  had  then  almost  undis- 
puted sway  in  the  world  of  learning  around  hiiT^. 
l^e  at  once  assailed  them  with  the  strength  and 
parjaestness  characteristic  of  the  man,     "  Aristotle, 


SIXTH      LECTURE.  257 

Porphyry,  the  Theologians  oi*  the  Sentences,"  he 
U^claredi"  these  are  the  unprofitable  study  of  thfe 
ilge.  I  desire  nothing  more  ardently  than  to  lay 
open  before  all  eyes  this  false  system,  which  has 
tecked  the  church  by  covering  itself  with  a  Greek 
rriisk  V'and  to  expose  its  worthlessness  before  the 
world."  He  seemed  never  to  be  wearied  in  repeat- 
ing  that  "  the  writings  of  the  apostles  and  pro- 
liHetis  are  both  more  certain  and  more  sublime 
than  ail  the  sophisms  of  the  Schools."  And  before 
long  he  exultingly  writes,  "  God  works  among  l^ 
liy.  Aristotle  is  on  the  wane,  and  already  totters 
te  his  fall,  which  is  near  at  hand,  and  irreversible.^ 
'  ^'  Language  of  the  same  import  you  find  in  the 
Writings  of  all  the  distinguished  Reformers ;  and 
here  I  would  have  it  noted  as  a  remarkable 
event  in  the  history  of  learning,  that  the  coming 
of  a  healthful  and  sound  philosophy,  followed  the 
Reformation  in  Religion,  which  rescued  the  Holy 
'Bible  from  oblivion,  and  placed  it  in  the  hands  of 
the  learned  and  the  unlearned,  to  become  an  ele- 
ment in  the  formation  of  their  minds,  and  to  leave 
its  impress  on  all  their  modes  of  thought  and  feel- 
ing.    This  was  the  work  of  the  Reformers,  all  (A 


268  SIXTH      LECTURE. 

them  in  tli(3ir  own  sphere  assailing  the  tyranny  df> 
the  Sciioolmen,  and  contributing  to  break  it  down/ 
In  this  view  Bacon  has  been  somewhat  fitly  called^i 
not  the  Robespierre,  but  the  Napoleon  of  philosoi-' 
phj^.     He  built  where  others  had  demolished,  and' 
none  had  done   so  much  to  batter  into  dust  th^i 
strong  and  gloomy  Bastile,  in  which  human  intel-'> 
lect  had  long  been  imprisoned,  and  held  compara- 
tively powerless  for  good,     as    those  right-hearted 
and  strong-handed  men,  whom  Bacon  himself  lov- 
ed to  honor  as    the    champions  both  of  religious 
truth  and  intellectual  liberty.  ^■ 

ff< 'Accordingly,  as  every  one  knows  who  is  con-1 
versant  with  the  subject,  it  v/as  from  the  day  in  ' 
which  the  Bible  was  brought  forth  from  the  dark-  ■' 
ness  under  which  scholasticism  had  covered  it,  and 
became  a  new  and  pervading  element  of  thought^' 
in  thfe  intellect  of  nations  which  were  blessed  with 
i^  light,  that  you  find  philosophy  and  science  as- 
suming their  new  guise,  and   making  strides  un- 
known before.     You  hear  of  no   Copernicus,  nor 
Tycho  Brahe,  or  Kepler,  or  Galileo,  till  you  have 
heard  of  a  Luther,  a  Zuingle,  and  a  Calvin.     It  is 
tnae 'indeed,  that  you  may  occasionally  find  some 


SIXTH      LECTUBE.  259 

distinguished  philosopher  in  lands  where  the  Eible.^ 
\v:as  comparatively  a  sealed  book;  but  if  so,  you  see; 
l^ini  in  a  constant  antagonism  with  the  darknessi 
around  him.     He  is  like  a  star  that  dwells  alone,  i 
ll^i  is  not  one  of  a  bright  constellation.     The  sky  \ 
iu  which  we  discover-,  him  is  not  congenial  to  the* 
display  of  kindred  lights.     If  you  would  behold  a 
firmament  where  such  luminaries  rise  and  shine  ini 
clusters,  giving  and  receiving  from  each  other  the  i 
lustre  which  creates  perfect  day ;  and  where  their  -; 
influence  is  felt  in  a  philosophy  that  reaches  high  > 
and  deep  into  the  treasures  of  nature,  and  brings) 
forth  her  choicest  gifts  for  the  benefit  of  man ;  you 
must  find  it  where  the  Word  of  God  circulates  as- 
free  as  the  air  we  breathe,  where  its  truth  shinessr 
unchecked   and   untrammeled    as    light  from   then 
heavens.     You  do  not  find  Bacons,  Boyles,  New- 
tons,  Davys,  or  Herschels,  in  Spain,  Portugal,  or 
Italy,  but  in   Bible  taught  England.     Or  look  at 
France.     The   growth   of  her   great  philosophers 
has  b^en  since  she  broke  away  from  the  tyranny -^^ 
that  chained  the  intellect  under  the   bondage  oil 
the  Schools ;  and  the  renown  of  her  distinguished  ■ 
scholars  at  this  day,  as  may  be  seen    from   their 


J)W  SIXTH      LECTURE. 

works,  is  owing  in  a  great  degree,  to  their  havingt 
caught  much  of  that  spirit  of  a  sound  philosophy 
which  the  Reformers  caught  from  the  Bible.  In- 
deed it  is  due  to  France,  to  remember  that  :among 
the  first  of  scholars,  renowned  for  his  struggles  in 
behalf  of  a  philosophy  new  in  its  principles  and 
applications,  was  Ramus  of  Paris,  who  made  the 
Bible  his  daily  study,  though  at  the  expense  of 
cruel  persecution  and  fijaal  martyrdom,  and  drew 
from  it  both  his  faith  in  religion,  and  his  princi- 
ples in  dialectics.  Nor  did  Bacon  give  birth  to  his 
**  Advancement  of  Learning,"  his  "  De  Augmentis 
Scientiarum,"  his  "  Novum  Organum,"  until,  as 
he  himself  intimates,  the  tyranny  of  the  School- 
men had  been  overturned  by  the  influence  of  the 
Reformation;  and  until  by  a  careful  study  of  the 
Bible,  his  mind  had  acquired  a  controlling  sympa- 
thy with  it,  not  only  in  its  doctrines,  but  also  in 
its  modes  of  argument,  its  sources  of  evidence,  and 
its  practical  application  of  truth;  in  a  word,  until 
his  mind  had  been  clarified  by  the  power  of  in- 
spired truth  acting  upon  him,  perhaps  to  an  ex- 
tent of  which  he  may  not  have  been  fully  con- 
scious  himself       He   became   the   inductive   and 


SIXTH      LECTURE, 


4 

mi 


practical    philosopher,    in    no   small  degree,    froiti 
UiVTing   hig  mind   imbued  with  a  spirit  of  induc- 
tive and  practical  theology.  -^'^^  riaiilw 
:,'    11'  the  world  then  owes  much  to  Bacon  *ana 
obher  philosophei*8  of  his  class,  Bacon  oWes  much  ^ 
io  the  Bible,  and  Ik)  the  Rel'orniation  which  hroii^y 
iti  forth  fi-om  oblivion!     The  Bible  made  him  whdt 
ke  was,   and   placed  him  where  he  is.     Had  h6 
lived  in  a  day  or  a  land  in  which  the  Bibla  doultf 
luwe  had  no  influence  in  forming  his  channels  liha 
modes  of  thought,  he  had  never  become  a  Sir  Ttmi^ 
dis  Bacon,  though  he  might  have  been  a  Thomas 
Aquinas,  or  a  Duns  Scotus,  strong  in  his  abstratj- 
tions,  and  deep  in  his  mysticism.     And  if  We  ate. 
asked,  why  did  not  the  Bible  produce  a  Bacon  at! 
to  earlier  day ;  though  the  question  is  irrelevant; 
the  answer  is  ready.     The  Bible  did  not  produce  it 
Bacon  before  Bacon's  age,  because  in  no  previou;^ 
age  was  it  so  diffused  and  received  among  men  of 
Bacon's  class,  as  to  form  a  leading  portion  of  thei'rf 
intellectual  treasure,  or  to  have  a  leading  influence 
on  their  intellectual  training.     Never  before  had  it 
so  become  part  and  parcel  of  the  common  store 
among  the  body  of  the   learned,  enriching  their 


262  SIXTH      LECTURE. 

rninds  with  the  beautiful  simplicity  of  its  teach- 
ings. Never  before  had  it  reached  such  a  point  in 
its  spread,  as  to  have  either  influenced  or  formed 
public  opinion  among  the  learned.  From  the 
groves  and  academies  of  G-reece  and  Rome,  it  AWas 
entirely  shut  out.  In  their  wilful  ignorance  of  it, 
they  pronounced  it  *'  foolishness."  True,  the  book 
in  all  its  attributes  of  wisdom  and  truth  Was 
within  their  reach.  But  though  "  the  light  shined 
in  the  darkness,  the  darkness  comprehended  at 
not."  K  eject  it  as  they  might,  and  as  the  learn- 
ed did  in  generations  after  them ;  the  time  was 
however  to  come,  when  philosophers  who  deserved 
the  name,  would  receive  and  honor  the  inspired 
Volume.  It  did  come  in  the  days  of  Bacon,  aiid 
of  his  illustrious  brotherhood;  and  the  Book  Was 
repaid  a  thousand  fold  the  j  ustice  then  done  it,  by 
creating  an  era  in  the  history  of  knowledge,  which 
gave  her  freedom  instead  of  bondage,  and  sent  her 
abroad  to  benefit  a  world  from  which  she  had  pre- 
viously hidden  her  comparatively  scanty  stores 
with  the  selfishness  of  penury. 

Such  then  being  the  state  of  learning  in  6ur 
day,  ^^nd  such  being  the  revolution  through  which 


SIXTH     LECTURE.  -^^3 

it  has  passed,  it  would  be  folly  and  injustice  to 
suppose  it  hostile  to  the  spirit  of  true  religion.     It 

1  is  directly  the  reverse.  It  is  to  bo  received  as 
the  handmaid  and  ally  of  Revelation.  When  tho 
Reformation  in  religion  took  place,  the  Refor- 
mation in  philosophy  soon  followed;  and  the 
spread  of  the  Bible  was  the  great  means  of  ef- 
fecting both  the  one  and  the  other. 

But  further :  There  are  still  other  views  to  be 
taken  of  the  prejudice  we  are  anxious  ta  see  ^:e- 
moved.  It  has  not  oiily  created  unjust  suspicion 
and  aversion  against  learning,  and  learned  men; 
but  it  has  at  times  aroused  a  spirit  of  cruel  per- 
secution against  science,  it  cannot  be  denied  that 
there  have  been  martyrs  to  Philosophy  as^well  as 

P,jto  Christianity.  In  science  as  in  other  important 
interests  of  human  life,  great  men  do  not  follo>v, 

1  but  lead  ;  and  are  sometimes  so  far  in  advance  of 
their  generation  that  their  views  are  misconceived, 
misapprehended,  and  opposed  with  bitter  animosi- 
ty. While  spending  their  lives  and  strength  in 
discoveries  that  may  benefit  our  whole  race,  so  far 

:  from  being  cheered  and  applauded  as  benefactors, 
they  are  often  not  even  allowed  to  share  in  that 


^^'  •  S  liXTin   ■LECTURE. 

charity  tliat  " suffereth  loaig.,,ijL»d  is. kind j  enviethi 
not  and  think eth  no.  evilumi  orff  rf^riofft  ffiH 

I  might  give  you  instance  after  instance,  show- 
ing that  men  who  have  made  those  valuabje  sug- 
gestions in  physical  science  which  have  led  to  the 
most  valuable  improvements  in  the  condition  of 
man,  have  been  persecuted  as  blasphemers  and^ 
malefactors,  by  those  who  were  little  inclined  to< 
rest  tillthey  had  seen  these  pioneers  of.  knowledge" 
either  burnt  at  the  stake  as  conjurors,  or  confined 
in  chains  as  madmen.  But  let  us  dwell  chiefly  on 
one  conspicuous  example.  Let  us  go  back  to  th^' 
period  when  the  ennobling  and  elevating  science^ 
of  Astronomy  was  yet  in  its  infancy ;  that  science' 
which  furnishes  such  arguments  for  devotion  in 
every  new  discovery  it  makes,  as  to  have  led  toi 
the  just  remark,  that 

oalfi  ;^ird 

"  An  undevout  Astronomer  is  mad." 

iiincf    yffTBv 

Let  us  refer  to  the  labors  and  sufferings  of  the  illusr^ 
trious  Galileo,  called  by  many  "  the  master  of  EiUj 
rope  in  science,"  during  his  life.  au.^^pi|> 

It  was  about  fifty  years  before  his  day,  that  the 
system  of  Ptolemy  was  assailed  and  overthrown 


SIXTH     LECTURE.  265^ 

b^  Copernicus,  a  Ganon  of  the  chapter  of  Frauen- 
burg.  But  though  the  proofs  were  conclusive,  that 
the  ^arth  moves  around  the  sun,  instead  of  the  sun 
laoving  round  the  earth ;  and  although  Coperni- 
oufe  being  an  ecclesiastic  himself,  might  have  hoped 
Ibr  the  sympathy  of  his  brotherhood ;  yet  he  was 
timid  about  making  his  discoveries  known,  lest  he 
might  bring  on  himself  the  censure  of  the  church, 
if.  not  the  pains  of  the  Inquisition.  Accordingly 
his  discovery  slumbered  for  several  years.  But  when 
Galileo,  by  his  improvements  in  the  construction 
of  the  telescope,  carried  his  discoveries  into  the. 
heavens  far  beyond  the  limits  which  had  bounded 
the  views  of  Copernicus,  and  had  learned  how  the 
vast  assemblage  of  fixed  stars  are  held  in  their 
places,  surrounded  by  their  satellites  ;  and  thus  not 
only  proved  the  truth  of  the  Copernican  system, 
but  also  of  the  great  laws  which  govern  the  hea- 
venly bodies,  unknown  until  his  day ;  perhaps 
being  less  acquainted  than  Copernicus  with  the 
ignorance  and  jealousy  of  the  Priests,  he  gave  his 
discoveries  to  the  world  fully  and  fearlessly.  No 
sboner  however  had  he  published  them,  than  the 
cry  of  heresy  was  raised  against  him.     The  whole 


268  SIXTH      LECTURE. 

Science  of  Astronomy  was  represented  as  nearly 
allied  to  Astrology.  The  Astronomer  was  accord- 
ingly brought  before  the  Inquisition,  where  he  was 
told  that  he  had  been  cited,  not  to  be  heard  in  his 
defence,  but  to  hear  himself  and  his  discoverioc 
condemned ;  and  it  was  only  on  condition  of  his  - 
renouncing  them  as  untrue,  and  of  his  promise  not' 
to  vindicate  or  teach  them,  either  in  conversation 
or  in  writing,  that  he  obtained  his  liberty. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  by  thus-  abjuring  his  > 
own  discoveries,  he  inflicted  a  stain  upon  his  name 
which  can  never  be  effaced.  Indeed  he  had  faults 
which  I  would  be  far  from  palliating  or  excusing ; 
and  yet  let  us  not  judge  him  too  severely.  He 
was  not  a  man  of  iron  nerve.  He  stood  before  that 
awful  court  which  had  the  power  of  creating  ter- 
ror in  the  minds  of  the  accused,  beyond  any  other 
invention  of  ancient  or  modern  times.  The  dark 
cells  into  which  it  thrust  its  victims,  and  from 
which  they  never  returned,  its  slow  and  unsparing 
tortures,  had  often  overpowered  men  of  the  greatest' 
resolution.  The  dread  of  death  under  less  fright- 
ful circumstances,  as  we  may  remember,  once  drew 
\       Cranmer  to  put  his  hand  to  a  paper  in  which  he 


SIXTH      LECTURE.  2^^',^ 

renounced  his  faith  as  a  Protestant,  though  he  af- 
terwards repented  of  the  deed  and  died  a  martyr 
at  the  stake,  holding  in  the  hottest  of  the  flame 
the  hand  that  had  signed  the  unhappy  recantation, 
exclaiming  while  he  had  power  to  speak,  "  This 
unworthy  right  hand !  This  unworthy  right  hand  ! 
This  is  the  hand  that  wrote  it,  and  therefore  it 
shall  first  suffer  punishment."  The  greatest  of 
men  have  moments  of  weakness,  when  they  may 
fail  in  their  fidelity  to  the  truth ;  and  Galileo  is 
sfjiid-to  have  plead  in  his  excuse,  that  though  for  a 
time  he  professedly  renounced  the  truth,  yet  he 
was  confident  that  at  length,  it  would  and  must 
prevail ;  that  even  if  the  Inquisitors  could  stop  his 
pien,  they  could  not  stop  the  earth's  motion  ;  and 
that  other  astronomers  heside  himself  would  arise, 
who  would  give  currency  to  his  discoveries  under 
circumstances  when  no  power  of  the  Inquisition 
could  suppress  them  or  retard  their  progress. 
;  When  set  at  liberty  however,  his  passion  for 
new  investigations  showed  itself  to  be  as  strong  as 
ever.  His  telescope  was  again  before  his  eyes,  and 
turned  towards  the  heavens,  where  he  saw  proofs 
which  tended  to  e^riaiiafei-more  and  more  the  opin- 


^P^v.  SIXTH     LECTURE. 

ions  which  he  had  heeii  driven  to  ahjure.  Notwith- 
standing the  danger  to  which  he  exposed  himself, 

J^e  at  once  published  his  famous  "  Dialogues  "  on 
the  two  great  systems  of  the  world;  and  influ- 
enced, perhaps,  by  a  sense  of  shame,  at  the  duplici- 
ty which  he  had  been  induced  to  practice,  and  of 

.resentment  at  the  unworthy  treatment  he  had  re- 
ceiyed ;  he  introduced  some  strokes  of  cutting  sar- 
casm against  the  hypothesis  which  he  so  fully  over- 
threw, and  against  the  men  who  maintained  it. 
The  cry  of  heresy  was  instantly  renewed ;  and  at 
the  age  of  seventy  years,  this  venerable  man  was 
brought  to  Rome  and  committed  as  a  prisoner.  In 
the  end  he  was  called  up  to  receive  sentence  ;  and 
again  compelled  to  condemn  his  discoveries  as  im- 
pious, and  to  bind  himself  by  an  oath,  never  to 
teach  or  support  them  in  any  way,  or  in  any  ibrm. 
As  a  punishment  too  for  having  disobeyed  the  former 
decree  of  the  Inquisition,  he  was  detained  a  prison- 
er at  the  pleasure  of  the  Cardinal  Inquisitors;  and 
required,  as  a  penance,  to  repeat  the  seven  peniten- 
tial  Psalms,  once  a  week  during  the  space  of  three 
years.    At  the  same  time  his  writings  were  prohib- 

'tied,  and  ordered  to  be  publicly  burnt  afc  Rome.      . 


SIXTH     LECTURE.  269 

We  can  easily  imagine  what  would  be  the  effect 
of  such  a  degrading  discipline  on  a  mind  like  his 
— excitable,  impatient  of  restraint,  and  longing  to 
break  away  and  mark  out  new  paths  of  discovery 
in  the  wide  expanse  of  the  heavens  above.  It  was 
like  chaining  the  eagle  to  the  earth,  and  compel- 
ling him  to  trail  his  wings  in  the  dust,  instead  of 
allowing  him  to  rise  into  his  native  regions  high 
in  the  air.  It  would  break  the  spirit,  and  shorten 
the  life  of  the  noble  bird  to  have  his  nature  thus 
violated  and  wronged.  Such  was  the  effect  of  the 
slavish  penance  enjoined  upon  Galileo ;  and  this 
brings  to  our  view  an  incident  in  this  melancholy 
history  which  may  well  awaken  our  deepest  sym- 
pathies. 

He  had  a  daughter  with  a  mind  gifled  much 
like  that  of  her  father,  ardent  and  aspiring.  She 
saw  the  effect  produced  upon  her  aged  parent  by 
the  constant  reiteration  of  the  penitential  psalms 
day  after  day ;  and  as  the  strange  and  dark  morals 
of  that  generation  allowed,  she  volunteered  to  en- 
dure the  penance  in  his  stead.  The  effect  was  as 
disastrous  upon  her  health  and    spirits  as   it  had 

been  upon  his ;  but  in  the  devotedness  of  her  affec- 

17 


270  SIXTH      LECTURE. 

tion,  she  concealed  from  him  the  inward  fever  that 
was  consuming  her  vital  strength,  and  ere  long 
was  carried  to  an  untimely  grave ;  alike  the  victim 
pf  filial  devotion,  and  a  reproach  to  the  cruelty  of 
ignorance  and  superstition  which  had  led  to  so 
|)ainfal  a  catastrophe.  The  loss  of  his  lovely  child, 
jjwith  his  other  calamities,  broke  the  heart  of  the 
persecuted  sufferer,  notwithstanding  the  efibrts  of 
his  friends  to  soothe  and  comfort  him.  The  world 
soon  became  as  dark  to  him  as  to  his  child  in  her 
sepulchre.  He  was  overtaken  with  blindness  as 
•the  effect  of  grief  and  study ;  and  at  last  died,  more 
dhe  victim  of  sorrow  and  vexation  than  of  either 
age  or  bodily  disease. 

There  are  other  martyrs  besides  Galileo  who 
ihave  fallen  victims  to  the  prejudice  which  I  am 
exposing.  1  have  dwelt  the  longer  on  his  case, 
that  you  may  the  better  perceive  how  ruthless  and 
•tmsparing  is  the  war  it  has  at  times  waged  against 
^knowledge  and  intellect.  In  its  unfeeling  cruel- 
ty, it  has  broken  down  and  crushed  some  of  the 
choicest  spirits  that  ever  appeared  as  the  bene- 
factors of  mankind ;  and  whose  frames,  tenderly 
rgtrung,  and  sensitive  to  wrong,  have  quickly  sunk 


SIXTH     LECTURE.  271 

under  the  fierce  blow  of  the  defamer  and  persecu- 
tor. Professing  to  he  the  guardian  and  defender 
of  the  Bible,  it  has  often  reprobated  the  very  dis- 
coveries which  throw  a  richer  and  larger  meaning 
into  many  of  the  sacred  pages.  That  Holy  Book 
}s  full  of  types  and  symbols  taken  from  the  world 
of  nature ;  from  the  heavens,  from  the  sun,  moon 
and  stars ;  from  earth  and  sea,  and  all  their  yiv- 
rious  products.  To  understand  the  real  signifi- 
cance of  these  emblems  with  which  the  Scrip- 
ture abounds,  we  must  know  the  nature  of  the 
object  itself,  the  laws  which  govern  it,  and  the 
purposes  it  subserves  in  the  world  of  which  it 
may  be  a  part.  >  . 

The  scientific  interpreter  of  God's  works  is  con- 
sequently to  be  viewed  as  acting  in  alliance  with 
the  sound  expositor  of  God's  word;  and  as  one 
among  many  of  the  proofs  showing  how  much 
fresh  light  may  thus  be  thrown  upon  the  inspinjd 
writers,  let  us  take  an  example  from  the  discoveries 
of  Copernicus  and  Galileo,  to  which  we  have  just 
referred,  and  which  awakened,  as  we  have  seen,  the 
unrelenting  fanaticism  that  distinguished  their  day. 

We  are  all  familiar  with  the  figurative  language 


mf2 


SIXTH     LECTURE. 


i.  which  denominates  the  Saviour  as  the  "Sun/'  "the 

''Sun  of  righteousness •/'  and  the  devout  Christian 

5  should  never  look  upon  the  King  of  day  without 

i."^ thankfulness  that  he  has  there  shining  a  const^lnt 

'  remembrancer  of  his  Redeemer.    But  the  full  sig- 

^■mficknce  of  that  beautiful  symbol  was  never  com- 

^prehended,  till  we  had  been  taught  that  the  sun  is 

^th^  gi'eat  centre  around  which  our  earth  is  conti- 

Oftually  revolving;  not  only  deriving  from  him  Jight 

and  Heat,  beauty  and  fertility;    but  also  retained 

i^in  its  appropriate  sphere,  by  his  attracting  and  sus- 

^taining  power,  until  it  shall  have  fulfilled  its  a^- 

Cpointed  time,  and  then  to  be  lost  in  that  flood  of 

-light,' into  which  it  will  be  kindled  by  the  fires  of 

•^  the  last  day.    This  is  the  theory  respecting  the  siin 

'and  planets,  which  Galileo  studied  and  suifered  so 

'fYnuCh:tb  establish ;  and  when  viewed  as  the  true 

2?soience  of  the  heavens,  what  an  illustrious  display 

^  is  the  sun  made  to  furnish  of  the  glory  and  offices 

-^bf  the  Redeemer,  his  people  revolving  around  him, 

V  owning  Him  as  the  great  centre  of  attraction  to 

-which  they  should  tend,  deriving  from  him  both  the 

v- light  that  guidas  them,  and  the  life-giving  warmth 

T  that  makes  them  fruitful  of  crood  works;  wliile  at 


SIXTH     LECTURE.  3?3 

the  same  time  they  are  preserved  in  the  way  of  his 
(iC5ommandments,  from  which  at  times  they  wali- 
ider,  hy  his  drawing  them  nearer  to  himself,  till 

*  at  last  they  will  be  wrapped  in  the  glory  whi<jh 
awaits  them,  when  their  fellowship  with  Him 
shall  be  closer  and  more  perfect.  Compared  with 
this  copious  significance,  how  jejune  and  unfitting 
would  this  symbol  of  the  Redeemer  be  rendered,  if 
the  earth  were  made  the  central  point,  and  the 
sun  made  obsequiously  to  revolve  around  it2i  ini& 

'tu:-  This  is  but  a  single  example  out  of  many  whioh 
J  might  quote,  to  show  how  those  discoveries  in 

uScience,  which  at  first  were  decried  as  hostile  to 

Kibe  Bibl6,  when  rightly  appreciated,  have  become 
the  expositors  of  a  rich  and  divine  wisdom  in  this 

oHoly  Volume  which  could  never  have  heen  undei^ 
stood  without  their  aid.    The  very  first  page  of  in- 

V  spiration  describing  the  Creation  of  oulr  world,  is 
another  remarkable   instance.     An  injustice  simi- 

.  lar  to  that  which  was  done  to  Astronomy  in  for- 

(xlner  ages,  has  more  recently  been  done  to  Geology. 
True,  many  of  the  more  distinguished  Geologists 
have  done  much  to  excite  a  prejudice  against  the 

•  I  whole  science  they  teach,  by  the  rash  theories  they 


S74  SIXTH     L'iCTirRE. 

have  advanced,  and  which  we  hope  hereafter  W- 
show  are  as  much  at  war  with  sound  philosophy^ 
al9  'With  sacred  Scripture.  But  there '  are  principl6^ 
i^'  Geology  which  have  becoriie  fixed  and  settled 
s5d  Completely,  a^  to  place  them  beyond  all  reasdii-'' 
able  doubt.  Among  these  is  the  creation  of  dui*- 
world  out  of  another  which  existed  before  it,  and' 
then  perished ;  burying  in  its  deep  ruins,  the  prd-'^ 
ducts  which  once  covered  its  face,  and  which  are 
now  often  exhumed  as  the  fossil  remains  of  a  world' 
that  has  "waxed  old  like  a  garment;" while  at  the 
same  time,  we  are  taught  to  believe  that  out  oP 
the  ruins  of  our  world,  when  it  shall  have  been  cofl-^^ 
sumed  by  the  fires  of  the  last  day,  are  to  arise' 
"new  heavens  and  a  new  earth."  According  W 
this  theory,  worlds  themselves  are  subject  to  growth* 
and  decay,  like  the  products  of  our  earth  in  the 
varying  seasons ;  and  constant  change  is  passiti^^ 
on  every  creature  of  the  Almighty  in  his  material' 
Universe : — ^He,  and  He  alone  remaiiyng  "  the  same*,^ 
yesterday,  to-day  and  forever."  No  one  can  fail  tbf^ 
perceive  how  forcibly  such  conceptions  tend  td*^ 
illustrate  the  meaning  of  the  Psalmist,  wheii/^ 
describing  the  eternity  and  immutability  of  God^' 


SIXTH      LECTURE.  278: 

he  contrasts  these  divine  attributes  with  the  great- 
changes  that  are  constantly  p^issing  upon  the  earth, 
and  the  heavens,  saying,  "  Of  old  hast  thou  hiid  th^ 
foundations  of  the  earth ;  and  the  heavens  are  the, 
work  of  thy  hands.     They  shall  perish,  b(v^t  thou 
shalt  endure;  yea,  all  of  them  shall  waX;  pld  like, 
a  garment ;  as  a  vesture  shiilt  thou  change  thern^ 
and  they  shall  be  changed ;  But  thou  art  th^  sanie^i 
and  thy  years  shall  have  no  end."    But  n^jtwith^b 
standing  the  beatiful  illustration  thus  given;  tto  thai 
words  of  Scripture  by  this  theory  respecting  a  suc^j 
cession  of  worlds,  when  it  was  first  advanced,  an-i: 
outcry  was  raised  against  it  as  leading  riot  only  toj 
impiety   but   to   Atheism.     Farther   inquiry,  and  a 
more  knowledge  among  the  friends  of  Rejigion,^^ 
have  since  shown  that  the  conflict  in  such  case^i 
was  not  between  Geology  and  the  Bible,  but  b^^ 
tween  Geology  and  a  mistaken  and  superficial  in?-/ 
terpretation  of  the  Bible ;  and  that  the  very  same: 
theories  at  first  viewed  with  so  much  alarm,  and  as«-. 
sailed  with  so  much  abuse,  are  required  both  tor 
reader   the   Holy  Volume   consistent   with   itselfy^ 
and  to  pour  light  o^  p^ges  that  were  dark  andi 
perplexing.  ^,,^,,,^,uxiii  (>(i'     -   -  ;»         r..>:9f) 


27(i  ^  SIXTH      LECTURED 

But  whatever  may  have  been  gathered  in  tunes 
past  from  the  Heavens  above,  or  the  earth  beneath 
to  illustrate  God's  Holy  Word,  it  is  but  a  small 
part  of  what  is  yet  to  be  done.  There  is  a  mean- 
ing not  yet  fully  developed  in  the  exclamation  of 
David,  "Thou  hast  magnified  thy  word  above  all 
thy  name."  From  discoveries  of  Science  already 
made  we  are  enabled  more  fully  to  see  God's 
name  written  in  every  star  that  shines  above  us,  as 
it  shows  fort]  I  the  riches  and  power  of  the  hand 
that  made  it,  and  robed  it  in  light.  It  is  owing  to 
aid  from  the  same  source  that  we  can  also  more 
fully  see  His  name  in  the  mines  of  wealth  and- 
comfort  which  lie  hidden  in  the  bowels  of  our 
earth,  as  they  display  the  wise  Providence  with 
which  He  has  treasured  them  up  from  ages  past, 
for  the  benefit  of  our  race,  in  all  generations,  as  time 
rolls  on.  But  there  are  still  brighter  revelations 
of  his  wisdom  mercy  and  power  contained  in  his 
Word.  It  stands  '*  magnified  above  all  his  name," 
inasmuch  as  it  reveals  a  salvation  for  lost  man 
which  we  could  never  have  undertsood  from  any 
other  teachings  than  those  we  find  in  its  pages. 
And  if  we  may  judge  from  the  past,  as  to  what 


SIXTH     LECTURE.  SlTI' 

we  may  expect  in  the  future,  every  sun  and  every 
star  now  above  us,  and  every  thing  embosomed  iti, 
tihe  earth  beneath  us,  as  they  become  better  knoAvii' 
tiatrough  the  labors  of  the  learned,  will  continue 
ia  unseal  some  new  and  precious  meaning  in  these 
inspired  records  and  promises  of  Heaven's  grdc«^'t3 
opr  fallen  race.  *   lu  r.  •   m  w,  ,        .,ii..r,   ^ili 

tc  Then,  in  a  tteV  sense,  will  **ihe  :  IfewverfHKI^ 
Heavens,  and  the  waters  that  be  above  the  HettP 
yens;  the  mountains  and  the  hills  and  the  deej^ 
places  of  the  earth,"  all  of  them  *^praise  themaimfe 
of  the  Lord,"  as  each  of  them  brings  its  offeriikg, 
both  to  fultil  and  to  illustrate  His  "Word.  May  His 
smile  rest  upon  every  effort  to  accomplish  that  end,; 
which  is  made  with  an  humble  reliance  on  His 
promised  blessing.  b9TJj&6'>  oil  fbidw 

eni  j  »no^  llfi  ni  ^eoxtj  Ti/o  lo  iBi9flod  £>di  w\ 

5)M  BTOdi  ifjff     .flo  elloT 
»woq  bflu  T(oi6m  inobj?iw  gid  lo 

iii:ii'  AoiirMir^  .n  gfuovo!  ihrnmsisii 

■    .  Mo 

1;M  l:^A 


9  s  ^ 


¥  1 


,    c^m'ii^m  iimm  m  m^m 


or  aoA^ 

fi:ai  Yaii>..  111:11  ;ijiw  '^TjYOTjfro:;  oiu  10  gooqyji  jnr)30"iq  Oiu. 


mm§  s®  3?2a®s  asisawaSc 


Page  16. 

The  present  aspect  of  the  controversy  with  infidelity  haa 
created  a  growing  desire  that  both  our  Literary  and  Theolo- 
gical Institutions  would  bestow  more  attention  on  the  har- 
mony of  Physical  Science  with  the  Scriptures.  That  able 
and  interesting  author,  Hugh  Miller,  has  the  following  re- 
marks on  the  subject  in  his  "  Foot-prints  of  the  Creator :" 

"  The  evangelistic  Churches  cannot,  in  consistency  with 
their  character,  or  with  a  due  regard  to  the  interests  of  their 
people,  slight  or  overlook  a  form  of  error  at  once  exceed- 
ingly plausible  and  consummately  dangerous,  and  which  is 
telling  so  widely  on  society,  that  one  can  scarce  travel  by 
railway,  or  in  a  steamboat,  or  encounter  a  group  of.  intelli- 
gent mechanics,  without  finding  decided  trace  of  its  ravages. 

"  But  ere  the  Churches  can  be  prepared  competently  to 
deal  with  it,  or  with  the  other  objections  of  a  similar  class 
which  the  infidelity  of  an  age  so  largely  engaged  as  the  pre- 
sent in  physical  pursuits  will  be  fi:om  time  to  time  originat- 
ing, they  must  greatly  extend  their  educational  walks  into 
the  field  of  physical  science.  The  mighty  change  which  has 
taken  place  during  the  present  century  in  the  direction  in 
which  the  minds  of  the  first  order  arc  operatinsr,  though  in- 


282  NOTES    TO 

dicated  on  the  face  of  the  country  in  characters  which  can* 
not  be  mistaken,  seems  to  have  too  much  escaped  the  notice'^ 
of  our  theologians.    Speculative  theology  and  the  metaphy-  ■' 
sics  are  cognate  branches  of  the  same  science;  and  when,  as ^ 
in  the  last  and  the  preceding  ages,  the  higher  philosophy  of 
the  world  was  metaphysical,  the  Churches  took  ready  cogni- ' 
zance  of  the  fact,  and  in  due  accordance  with  the  require- ' 
ments  of  the  time,  the  battle  Of  the  Evidences  was  fought ' 
on  metaphysical  ground.   But,  judging  from  the  preparations  ' 
made  in  their  colleges  and  halls,  they  do  not  now  seem  suffi- ' 
ciently  aware — though  the  low  thunder  of  every  railway,  and  ' 
the  snort  of  every  steam  engine,  and  the  whistle  of  the  wind  * 
amid  the  wires  of  every  electric  telegraph,  serve  to  publish  ' 
the  fact — ^that  it  is  in  the  department  of  physics,  not  of  meta*  * 
physics,  that  the  greater  minds  of  the  age  are  engaged ;  that ' 
the  Lockes,  Humes,  Kants,  Berkeleys,  Dugald  Stewarts,  and  ' 
Thomas  Browns,  belong  to  the  past;  and  that  the  philoso- 
phers of  the  present  time,  tall  enough  to  be  seen  all  the  world  ' 
over,  are  the  Humboldts,  the  Aragos,  the  Agassizes,  the ' 
Liebegs,  the  Owens,  the  Herschels,  the  Bucklands,  and  the 
Brewsters.    In  that  educational  course  through  which,  in 
tliis  country,  candidates  for  the  ministry  pass  in  preparation 
for  their  office,  I  find  every  group  of  great  minds  which  has 
in  turn  influenced  and  directed  the  mind  of  Europe  for  the 
last  three  centuries,  represented,  more  or  less  adequately, 
save  the  last.   It  is  an  epitome  of  all  kinds  of  learning,  with 
the  exception  of  the  kind  most  imperatively  required,  be- 
cause most  in  accordance  with  the  genius  of  the  time.    The 


FIRST     LECTUKE.  283 

restorers  of  classic  literature,  the  Buchanans  and  Erasmuses, 
we  see  represented  in  our  Universities  by  the  Greek  and 
what  are  termed  the  Humanity  courses ;  the  Galileos,  BoyleSj 
and  Newtons,  by  the  Mathematical  and  Natural  Philosophy 
courses ;  and  the  Lockes,  Kants,  Humes,  and  Berkelcys,  by 
the  Metaphysical  course.  But  the  Cuviers,  the  Huttons,  the 
Cavendishes,  and  the  Watts,  with  their  successors,  the  prac- 
tical philosophers  of  the  present  age — men  whose  achieve- 
ments in  physical  science  we  find  marked  on  the  surface  oi 
the  country  in  characters  which  might  be  read  from  the 
moon — are  not  adequately  represented.  It  would  be  perhaps 
more  correct  to  say,  that  they  are  not  represented  at  all ;  and 
the  clergy,  as  a  class,  suffer  themselves  to  linger  far  in  the  rear 
of  an  intelligent  and  accomplished  laity,  a  full  age  behind 
the  requirements  of  tlie  time.  Let  them  not  shut  their  eyes  to 
the  danger  which  is  obviously  coming.  The  battle  of  the  Evi- 
dences will  have  as  certainly  to  be  fought  on  the  field  of  phy- 
sical science,  as  it  was  contested  in  the  last  age  on  that  of  the 
metaphysics.  And  on  this  new  arena  the  combatants  will 
have  to  employ  new  weapons,  which  it  will  be  the  privilege 
of  the  challenger  to  choose.  The  old,  opposed  to  these, 
would  prove  but  of  little  avail.  In  an  age  of  muskets  and 
artillery,  the  bows  and  arrows  of  an  obsolete  school  of  war- 
fare would  be  found  greatly  less  than  sufficient  in  the  field 
of  battle,  for  purposes  either  of  assault  or  defence." 

I  would  respectfully  commend  these  important  sugges- 
tions to  all  who  are  entrusted  with  the  care  of  our  scmina- 


284  NOTES    TO 

ries  of  learning ;  and  also  to  the  friends  of  education  who, 
having  liberal  means  at  their  disposal,  might  endow  profes- 
sorships, to  supply  the  want  which  is  now  so  painfully 
obvious.  Metaphysical  studies  should  neither  be  dropped 
nor  set  aside  in  order  to  make  room  for  Physical  Science. 
But  in  the  present  state  of  the  intellectual  world,  while'  a 
:^>ell  arranged  plan  of  liberal  education  should  include  both, 
the  latter  ought  to  have  a  first  place  as  to  the  means  provid- 
ed for  it  and  the  time  bestowed  on  it. 

^;^'„ 

«^'*»^^  Page  19. 

It  would  be  easy  to  multiply  instances  showing  the  hasty 
conclusions  by  which  infidels  in  their  zeal  to  discredit  the 
Bible  have  only  discredited  their  own  reputation  for  science 
and  fair  argument.  Egypt  was  once  considered  a  favorable 
soil  for  the  growth  of  scepticism.  It  lay  so  remote  in  ancient 
history,  and  the  traces  of  its  attainments  in  science  and  the 

■^rts  were  so  imperfect  and  perplexing,  that  it  seemed  just 
what  the  sceptic  could  desire,  who  would  "darken  counsel  by 
words  without  knowledge."  Accordingly  its  chronology,  its 
hieroglyphics,  and  its  various  antiquities  have  been  paraded 
before  the  world  again  and  again,  as  overthrowing  the  in- 
spiration of  the  Old  Testament.  But  now  that  Egypt  has 
been  subjected  to  a  more  thorough  examination  by  men  who 
were  competent  to  unravel  her  mystic  lore,  what  has  been 
•  .the  result?  We  refer  to  the  two  following  illustrations  the 

-'inore  readily,  as  they  have  been  furnished  to  the  church 


FIRST     LECTURE.  S85 

and  the  world  by  men  who  were  not  laboring  to  vindi- 
cate the  Bible,  but  simply  pursuing  then-  own  s<^ieiitific 
researches. 

The  first  is  in  relation  to  the  famous  Zodiac  in  the  Tem- 
ple of  Denderah.  The  subjoined  account  of  the  controversy 
respecting  it  is  taken  from  the  pen  of  Rev.  Dr.  Cheever, 
while  writing  as  the  Correspondent  of  the  New- York  Ob- 
(server. 

"I  know"  he  says,  "of  scarcely  any  more  interesting  sub- 
ject. The  account  of  the  attack  made  upon  Christianity 
through  its  medium,  and  of  its^  signal  defeat  in  the  progrcsa 
of  Egyptian  discovery,  is  one  of  the  most  striking  pages 
in  the  history  of  discomfited  infidelity. 

"I  have  already  given  a  slight  description  of  one  of  the 
zodiacs  of  Denderah,  supposed  to  be  an  astronomical  repre- 
sentation of  the  twelve  signs  of  the  zodiac  in  regular  succes- 
sion. These  zodiacal  pictures  never  seem  to  have  been  no- 
ticed till  the  period  of  the  invasion  of  Egypt  under  Napoleon. 
The  French  army  and  its  officers  seem  to  have  been  prepared 
for  an  expedition  among  the  ruins  of  Egyptian  antiquity 
with  a  wonderful  mixture  of  enthusiasm,  exaggeration,  cre- 
dulity and  unbelief  K  I' am  not  deceived  in  my  recollec- 
tion, the  whole  army  are  said  to  have  been  so  suddenly  and 
entirely  transported  by  the  first  sight  of  the  temple  of  Den 
derah,  that  they  burst  into  a  simultaneous  shout  of  admira- 
tion and  surprise.  Now  the  truth  is,  it  would  have  been  im- 
possible for  any  considerable  part  of  the  army  together  to 

have  seen  the  temple  at  all;  and  when  first  discovered,  it  is 

18 


v286  NOTES     TO 

SO  hidden  amidst  surrounding  lioaps  of  rubbish,  that   it  is 
only  on  arrivingclose  in  its. front,  and. almost  one  by  one, 
«:that  you  get  any  impression  wha;tever  of  its  grandeur.    The 
surprise  of  individuals  was  perhaps  grouped  and  generalized, 
•ftlirough  the  u.se  df  an  allowable  figure  of  speech,  by  the  his- 
rtoriau  of  the  expedition,  into  its  suftpoaMe  results,  if  the 
;  "vvholet  ^rmy  co?i^(i  Jiave  witnessed  the  spectacle  together.  .-^1 
!:>' p.  f^-GeQeral  Desaik  first  observed  !the  planisphere  or  circular 
rzodiafe  in  the  ceiling  of  one  of  the  halls  of  the  temple.    Thon 
f'the  rectangular  sculptured  zodiac  which-  I  have  described 
•flvas  discovered,  anld  afterwards  two  other  rectangular  zodiafcs 
g-were  foilnd  by  the  Champollions  in  the  temples  of  Esneh, 
'  isome  distance  above  Thebes.    They  were  copied,  engraved, 
I  published,  to  the  world,  and  as  it  was  every  where  taken  fi^r 
.'•granted  that  these  temples  and  their  sculptures  were  the  gen- 
uine remans  of  Ancient  Eg}^pt,  science  and  infidelity  togetliicr 
f  assumed  that  they  .afforded  astronomical  observations  of  the 
\  state  of  tii6  heavens  in  the  most  remote  periods.    It  was  ^. 
*>  parently  demonstrated  that  the  celestial  phenomena  exhibited, 
Crjan  back  from  4500  to  6500  years,  and  that  the  zodiacal  sys- 
c  tem  to  which  they  belonged  must  have  a  date  vastly  beyotid 
*>  the  Mosaic  era  of  creation,  at  least  fifteen  thousand  years  ago, 
"  The  assumptions  of  these  infidel  speculators  were  aft:er- 
i  wards ,  proved  ridiculously  false ;   but  even  at  that  period 
^filiere  were  not  wanting  able  men  of  great  learning,  among 
J  whon^i  appeared  the  celebrated  antiquarian  Yisconti,  to  de- 
^fend  the  truth  of  revelation  even  on  the  ground  of  those  as- 
Y sumptions;  that  ia,  taking  the  zodiacs  as  true  astronomical 


FIRST     LECTURE.  '-^ST 

monuments ;  and  they  proved,  by  equally  conclusive  cnltm- 
lations,  that  the  monstrous  antiquity  assigned  must  be  te- 
duced  within  the  limits  of  one  or  two  centuries  before  tlie 
Christian  era.  ;    iwi 

"  Here  the  subject  rested  for  a  time,  till  in  1822  the  pkti- 
isphere  of  Denderah  having  been  deftached  by  a  French 
traveller  from  the  ceiling  of  the  temple,  was  transported. to 
ithe  sea,  disembarked  at  Marseilles,  carried  to  Paris,  purchased 
by  the  king  for  150,000  francs,  and  placed  for  exhibition  ia 
the  Louvre.    Here  it  not  only  attracted  multitudes  of  visitor^, 
;  but  became  the  subject  anew  of  profound  study  and  specula- 
tion among  learned  men.    Mathematicians  and  astronomers 
,  aought  to  bring  the  results  of  their  laborious  backward  cal- 
culations into  a  correspondency  with  that  period  of  the  world 
when  the  zodiac  in  question  was  supposed  to  have  beqn 
copied  from  the  actual  appearances  in  the  heavens. 

"  In  a  letter  to  the  editor  of  the  Revu^  Encyclojjedique^  in 
August  1822,  Champollion  reminded  those  bold  speculators 
on  the  monument  of  Denderah,  that  a  precise  knowledge  of 
astronomical  science,  as  it  was  understood  by  the  ancient 
Egyptians,  with  all  its  errors,  was  as  absolutely  necessary  to 
any  just  conclusion,  as  the  most  exact  and  learned  theory  of 
modern  astronomy.  Egyptian  astronomy  having  been  inti- 
mately blended  with  religion  and  astrology,  mere  objects  oi 
worship  might  easily  be  mistaken  for  an  astronomical  sign, 
and  a  mere  symbolical  representation  for  a  real  object.  But 
fieither  this  repnx)f,  nor  the  opinion  of  learned  archaeologists 
who  attributed  to  the  era  of  the  zodiac  in  question  antiquity 


NOTES     TO 

no  greater  than  that  of  the  Eoman  dominion  in  Egypt,  had 
any  weight  against  the  pretended  exactness  of  the  calcula- 
tions of  learned  astronomers.    The  infidelity  of  Dupnis'  book 
on  the  origin  of  all  forms  of  religion,  received  a  new  impulse, 
was  spread  about  in  small  pamphlets,  and  was  admitted  un- 
checked in  all  companies. 
r       *•  So  far,  however,  as  it  was  built  upon  Egyptian  monu- 
ctnents,  it  lasted  but  a  little  while.    Suddenly  the  discovery 
^f  a  single  word  disgraced  and  annihilated  the  whole  of  it. 
hiti  the  Tise  of  his  phonetic  alphabet,  the  younger  Champol- 
•  lion  found  upon  the  planisphere  of  Denderah  the  Roman  ti- 
tle of  Emperor,  and  in  continuing  his  investigations  on  the 
temple  itself,  he  found  the  titles,  names,  and  surnames  of  the 
emperors  Tiberius,  Claudius,  Nero,  and  Domitian  !  Upon 
ihcportico  of  another  temple,  supposed  to  have  been  many 
centuries  older  than  even  that  of  Denderah,  he  found  the 
« ^names  bf  the  Roman  Emperors  Claudius  and  Antoninus 
'■'Pius I  Here  was  a  triumph  indeed,  for  there  was  no  impugn- 
*'in^:  fhe  discovery,  no  resisting  the  evidence  of  the  temples 
f"  themfeelves,  and  all  the  long  and  laborious  calculations  of 
c' those  learned  infidels  were  defeated  in  a  moment    They 
V  mu^  ]iave  been  singularly  abashed,  with  all  their  boldness, 
I  looking  a  good  deal  like  that  creature  found  once  'squat  like 
; :  a  toad,  close  at  the  ear  of  Eve,'  whom  the  spear  of  Ithuriel 
f^'toucTied  lightly,  and  'returned  of  force,  discovered  and  snr- 
^''  prised,  to  his  own  likeness.'    If  the  poet  Cowper  had  bden 
v' living,  he  had  gained  a  perfect  illustration  to  add  to  his  pic- 
%'-iare;df  those, 


FIRST    XHGTTURE, 


■Who  drill  iind  bore 


The  solid  earth,  and  from  the  strata  there  .'  "°, 

Extract  a  register,  by  which  we  learn 
That  he  who  niad^  it  and  revealed  its  date 
To  Moses,  was  mistaken'  in  its  age." 

"But  this  drilling  and  boring  was  nothing  to  the  folly  of 
men  who  thought  to  overturn  Christianity  itself  by  scientific 
calculations  based  on  the  supposed  antiquity  of  a  horoscope 
of  heathen  and  pagap  divinities,  a  monument  of  mingled 
astrology,  mythology  and  astronomy!,  Inasmuch  as  the  zo: 
diac  in  the  temple  at  Esneh  appeared  to  cgmmence  with  the 
sign  of  the  Virgin,  they  argued  an  antiquity  for  that  tempi ^ 
of  between  2700  and  3000  years  before  Christ! 

''This  carried  men's  minds  back  to  a  period  several  cen- 
turies before  the  deluge,  and  supposed  the  existence  then  in 
Egypt  of  astronomical  and  architectural  science  already  in- 
perfection,  the  monuments  of  which  remained  down  to  mod* 
em  times,  uninterrupted  and.  uninjured  even  by  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  world,  as  recorded  in  Ibe  Scriptures.  It  was  a 
good  opportunity  for  scoffers  to  build  their  inficjelity  into 
something  like  a  system,  and  tliey  were  allowed^  in  the 
Providence  of  God,  to  do  this  just  thoroughly  enough  and 
long  enough,  fully  to  display  their  presumption,  thc;ir  malig- 
nity  and  their  ignorance;  and  then,  at.  the  touch  of  truth 
their  discomfiture  was  as  easy  and  as  palpable  as  Jihe  shoot- 
ing of  a  ray  of  light  An  inscription  discovered  by  Gham- 
pollion  proved  the  zodiac  in  question  to  have  belonged  either 


290 


NOTES    TO 


to  the  reign  of  Antoniims  or  of  Adrian.    Even  previous  to 
this^  Messrs.  Huyot  and  Gau,  distinguished  French  artists,  by  ^ 
the  measurement  and  critical  examination  of  the  edifices  of' 
Egypt  and  those  of  Nubia  had  come  to  the  Certain  conclusion 
that  many  among  them  were  constructed  and  sculptured  iii'^ 
the  time  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans. 

-^Ijctronne,  a  learned  French  academician,  came  to  the  ^ 
sarfie  conclusions  with  Champollion  by  the  examination  of  ^ 
the  temples  and  of  various  inscriptions.    Pursuing  his  re^^-'- 
seaixihes,  he  even  found,  at  length,  a  zodiac  painted  upon  sl-T 
mummy-coffin  belonging  to  the  time  of  Trajan,  and  came  to^^* 
the  conclusion  that  none  of  tHe  representations  of  this  nature 
<apon  Egyptian  monuments  ha-Ve  any  higher  antiquity  thail  ^ 
Ijhei  epoch  of  the  Roman  emperors,  and  that  so  far  from  haV-^'^^ 
^n^  any  relation  to  astronotnical  science,  they  are  mere  omar»^ 
inedfits  of  judicial  astrology,  or  schemes  of  nativity,  so  called^'' 
lyytthoi  astrologists,  complimentary  to  the  destinies  of  the  reign- '■' 
mg  emperors.    So  the  bubble  of  infidelity  burst,  like  a  South  • 
Sei  speculation,  and  the  vaunted  Egyptian  zodiacs  lost  nearly'-''^ 
all  their  importance.    "They  are  nothing  more,"  said  M.  Le-"'f 
feroilne,  **than  simple  objects  of  curiosity,  which  may  furnish 
the'sirtist  and  the  antiquary  with  the  means  of  making  a  fe'wr 
collations,  but  which  will  hereafter  present  no  object  for  truly'" 
philosophical  research ;  for  instead  of  concealing,  as  was  e±- 
pect^^d,^  the  seeret  of  a  Science  which  had  reached  its  perfec- 
tioii  even  before  the  deluge,  they  are  merely  a  representation 
fjf  absurd  reveries,  and  a  testimony  still  living  of  one  of  tlA' 
lollies  which  have  most  disgraced  the  human  mind." 


FIRST     LECTURE.  21^2 

<.,t  T)ie  next  example  showing  how  the  progress  of  disco V-*>i 
eiy  in  Egypt  has  turned  the  tables  on  inMelity,  rektes  tai 
i^p  cultivation  of  ;the  vine  in  that  country ;  and  the  incidents  J 
a§  related  by  W^  Cooke  Taylor  in  his  work  entitled  ."ThQ/i 
natural  history  of  Society,"  show  how  even  the  learned  derj 
fenders  of  Christianity  may  be  misled  by  these  impc^ocit  disruj 
coyeries;  and  that  when  perjilexities  arise  under  suclr  ques- 
tions, it  is  our  duty  to  wait  in  patience,  till  time  shall  be  al*  ft 
lovycd  to  make  the  more  perfect  investigations  which  may  :J 
pi^t  the  whole  truth  in  our  possessioni  "iBie  that  .bfe\ieveth  a 
sh^l  not  make  haste."  t,,ffio,iol'Mf  4!/n<v>Y/'T'^'"™ 

j)v.The  Books  of  Genesis,  and  Exodus,"  says  TaylorJ^'oon-fdj 
tavfi  incidental  notices  of  the  condition  of  Egypt,  by  which  wciiii 
areven^bled  tp  estimate  pretty  accurately  the  progress  fofhju^iij 
manity  at  a  remote  age  in  the  valley  of  the  Nile ;  atid  these 
ncuMces  have  recently  derived  unexpected  confirmatipri  from 
modern  discoveries — for  the  monuments  brought  tO  light  in 
Egypt  confirm  tlie  accuracy  of  Scripture  in  every  particular,    » 
an<^  satisfactorily  refute  any  Qounter-statements  which  had  --^4 

prcv:iously  been  allowed  to  rankaa  contradictory  authorities,  ts 
,"One  remarkable  instance  of  this  n^^.  eyidence-for  ihi^,  j^ 

accuracy  of  the  Pentateuch,  will  serve  fitly, to  intyoduee  our  jj 
examination  of  the  Scriptural  statements  Respecting '  the,  civr!^^ 
ilization  of  Egypt.  ^^^^^^^.^  ^^^  ^^^^.^^„,  ^,,^  .  ,(,^,,,,^,.,  I,.:)uI.j<,>.oliiIq 
.."In  the  last  century  the  Books  of  Mpse^  ^^^^  P^^l^Myyq 
tacjked,  and  their  authenticity  impugned,  bcoause  ^hey. niqn-,,^ 
tioi?  the  existence  of  vineyards,  grapes,  and  consequently  ot  ^ 
wine,  in  Egypt:  for  Herodotus  expressly  declares  there ^veraf,' 


•202  NOTES    TO 

no  vineyards  in  Egypt,  and  Plutarch  avers  that  the  natives 
of  that  country  abhorred  wine,  as  being  the  blood  of  those 
who  rebelled  against  the  gods.  This  authority  appeared 
conclusive,  not  merely  to  the  sceptics  who  impugned  the  ve- 
racity of  the  Pentateuch,  but  even  to  the  learned  Michaelis, 
who  concluded  that  the  use  of  wine  was  enjoined  in  the  sao 
rifice  for  the  purpose  of  making  a  broad  distinction  between 
the  religious  usages  of  the  Israelites  and  of  the  Eg3^ptians. 
The  monuments  opened  by  modem  research  have  decided 
the  controversy  in  favor  of  the  Jewish^  Legislator.  In  the 
subterranean  vaults  at  Eilithyia,  every  part  of  the  processes 
connected  with  the  dressing  and  tending  of  the  vine  are 
faithfully  delineated ;  the  trellices  on  which  the  vines  were 
trained,  the  care  with  which  they  were  watered,  the  collection 
of  the  fruit,  the  treading  of  the  wine-press,  and  the  stowing 
of  the  wine  in  amphorce,  or  vases,  are  there  painted  to  the 
life ;  and  additional  processes  of  extracting  the  juice  from 
the  grape  are  represented,  which  seem  to  have  been  peculiar 
to  the  Egyptian  people.  Mr.  Jomard  adds,  that  the  remainf 
of  amphorse,  or  wine  vessels,  have  been  found  in  the  ruina 
of  old  Egyptian  cities,  which  are  still  encrusted  with  the 
tjirtar  deposited  by  the  wine.  It  is  not  necessary  to  account 
for  the  error  into  which  Herodotus  has  fallen ;  he  wrote  long 
after  Egypt  had  been  distracted  by  civil  wars,  and  then  sub- 
dued  by  the  Persians ;  calamities  quite  sufficient  to  accounji 
for  the  disappearance  of  such  a  highly  artificial  cultivation 
03  that  of  the  vine  must  have  been  in  Egypt.  His  statement 
is  most  probably  correct,  if  it  be  limited  to  the  period  when 


FIRST     LECTURE.  293 

Herodotus  Avrote;   and  thus  viewed,  it  becomes  inportant 
'.evidence  for  the  superior  antiquity  both  of  the  Bible  and  the 
Eg'jptian  monuments." 

.  './]'_)noo 

Much  as  has  been  done  by  the  learned  to  bring  tnitli^^ 
light  respecting  the  lands  wliere  the  Bible  lays  its  sceil«^,'4^i 
&te  persuaded  that  they  are  only  at  the  beginning  ot*  thtefr 
Vvork.  They  are  yet  on  the  surface,  and  the  deeper  they  ^ 
in  the  exhumation  of  the  ruins  that  tell  of  former  times,  thejr 
Jaie  furnishing  new  and  indisputable  evidence  showing  tli^ 
faruth  of  sacred  history.  The  Champollions,  the  Layards 
and  others  of  a  kindred  ambition  are  among  the  most  valua- 
hie  expositors  of  the  Bible.  Dr.  Robson  in  his  Lectures  to 
young  men,  has  well  remarked — "Ilad  Voltaire  been  now 
Alive,  he  would  not  have  ventured  to  put  the  sneering  qii^ 
tion,  how,  and  on  what  materials,  the  Hebrew  law-givi[ft' 
would  ^vrite  the  Pentateuch ;  for  it  is  provec^  that  papyriis 
was  in  common  use  for  writing  in  his  time.  Nor  would  he 
have  tauntingly  asked  how,  after  an  interval  of  a  thousaii(i 
•years,  Hilkiah  could  find  in  the  temple  of  Jerusalem  the  au- 
tograph of  the  law;  for  writings  and  contracts  on  papyrus,, 
as  old  as  the  times  of  the  Pharaohs,  still  exist,  and  arc  still 
legible.  Nor  would  he  have  insinuated  against  Ezra  the 
charge  of  having  forged  the  sacred  books  which  he  collCT^.t- 
ed ;  for  the  written  and  monumental  history'  of  'Egypt  ^s6 
coincides  with  these  books,  in  dates  and  facts,  as  to  dembtf- 
Btrate  that  they  could  not  be  the  work  of  imposture.  Thb 
•  remark  respecting  this  celebrated  infidel,  made  by  Benjamin 


294  NOTES    TO 

Constant,  an  eminent  French  philosopher,  who  had  aban- 
doned infidel  opinions  in  consequence  of  the  numberless 
difficulties  which  the  facts  of  science  oppose  to  scepticism,  is 
very  pungent ;  '  He  who  would  be  gay  with  Voltaire,  at  th^e 
•expense  of  Ezekiel  and  Genesis,  must  unite  two  things, 
which  will  make  his  gaiety  suf&ciently  melancholy — igno- 
rance the  most  profound,  and  frivolity  the  most  deplorable.*'" 

Page  30.  !T 

The  change  that  has  taken  place  since  Voltaire's  day 
among  the  leading  minds  of  the  French  nation  is  very  mark- 
ed, and  prom's  -s  happy  results.  The  able  writer  of  the  fol- 
lowing  paragraph  may  have  been  too  sanguine  in  his  hopes, 
but  there  is  much  truth  in  his  remarks.  Having  referred  tp 
'the  sentiment  of  reverence  for  Christianity,  which  is  so  plainly 
avowed  by  De  Tocqueville  in  his  Histoire  Philosophiquc 
dii  Eegne  de  liOuis  XV.  he  proceeds. 

"It  is  a  remarkable  and  most  consolatory  circumstance, 
that  these  just  and  enlightened  views  on  the  subject  of  re- 
ligion, and  its  beneficial  influence  on  society,  are  now  enter- 
tained by  all  the  deepest  thinkers  and  most  brilliant  writers 

in  France.    There  is  not  an  intellect  which  rises  to  a  certain 

.  .      ■    ■ .        .     •  <"i 
level  now  in  that  country — not  a  name  which  will  be  known 

a  hundred  years  hence,  which  is  not  thoroughly  Christian  in 
its  principles.  That,  at  least,  is  one  blessing  which  has  re- 
sulted from  the  Be  volution.  Chateaubriand,  Guizot,  Lamar, 
iine,  Villeraam,  De  Tocqueville,  Michelet,  Sismondi,  Ama- 
'&ee,  Thierry,  Beranger,  Barante,  belong  to  this  bright  band. 


FIRST     LECTURE.  295 

•JVlien  such  men,  differing  so  widely  in  every  other  respect, 

^are  leagued  together  in  dufence  of  Christianity,  we  may  re- 
gard as  a  passing  evil  whatever  profligacy  the  v(oi  ks  of  Vic- 

,t^r  Hugo.  Eugene  Sue,  and  Sand,  pour  forth  upon  the  Pa- 
risian world  and  middle  classes  throughout  France.  They, 
no  doubt,  indicate  clearly  enough  the  stato  of  general  opinion 

,€U  this  time.  But  what  then  ?  Their  great  compeers,  the 
giants  of  thought,  foreshadow  what  it  will  be.  The  profligate 
novels,  licentious  drama,  and  irreligious  opinions  of  the  mid- 
dle class  now  in  Francf^,  are  the  result  of  the  infidelity  and 
wickedness  wliich  produced  the  Revolution.  The  opinions 
of  the  great  mm  who  have  succeed- d  the  school  of  the  Eu- 
cyelop<jdie,  who  have  been  taught  by  the  suffering  it  i)io- 

'duced,  will  form  the  character  of  a  future  generation.  Pub- 
lie  opinion,  of.  which  we  hear  so  much,  is  never  anything 
else  than  the  re-echo  of  the  thoughts  of  a  few  great  mejj 
Iialf  a  century  l)€fore.  It  takes  that  time  for  ideas  to  floiy 
down  from  the  elevated  to  the  inferior  level.     The  great 

Wver  adopt,  they  only  originate.  Their  chief  efforts  are 
always  made  in  opposition  to  the  prevailing  opinions  by 
which  they  are  surrounded.  Thence  it  is  that  a  powerful 
mind  is  always  uneasy  when  it  is  not  in  the  minority  on  any 
subject  which  excites  general  attention." 

Page  40. 

I  have  been  told  that  when  these  Lectures  were  delivere<^ 
I  was  thought  by  some  of  my  hearers  to  have  been  too  un* 


R^ 


20G  NOTES     TO 

■paring  ill  my  strictures  on  Gibbon.  Keflection  lias  confirm- 
ed me.  in  the  belief  that  I  am  far  from  having  done  him  in'' 
justice.  The  most  sjvcrj  of  my  censures  are  little  more  than 
4  reiteration,  perhaps  I  should  say  condensation,  of  what  has 
been  previously  said  by  men  who  had  weighed,  with  great 
care,  both  the  man  and  his  writings. 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  predilections  or  prejudices 
of  Pj'ofessor  Porson,  the  famous  Greek  scholar,  he  was  cer- 
tainly far  from  being  over-scrupulous  in  matters  of  religion; 
yet  in  his  criticism  on  "The  Decline  and  Fall,"  he  tells  us, 

"Mr.  Gibbon's  industry  is  indefatigable,  his  accuracy 
scrupulous,  his  reading,  which  is  sometimes  ostentatiously 
displayed,  immense ;  his  attention  always  awake,  his  memory 
retentive,  his  style  emphatic  and  expressive,  his  sentences  hai?- 
monious,  his  reflections  just  and  profound;  he  pleads  elo- 
quently for  the  rights  of  mankind  and  the  duty  of  toleration; 
nor  does  his  humanity  ever  slumber  unless  where  women 
are  ravished  or  the  Christians  persecuted.  He  often  makes, 
when  he  cannot  readily  find,  an  occasion  to  insult  our  reli- 
gion, which  he  hates  so  cordially  that  he  might  seem  to  re- 
'venge  some  personal  injury.  Such  is  his  eagerness  in  the 
cause,  that  he  stoops  to  the  most  despicable  pun,  or  to  the 
most  awkward  perversion  of  language,  for  the  pleasure  of 
turning  the  Scripture  into  ribaldry,  or  of  calling  Jesus  an 
impostor.  Though  his  style  is,  in  general,  correct  and  ele- 
gant, he  sometimes  draws  out  'the  thread  of  his  verbosity 
£ner  than  the  staple  of  his  argument.!  In  endeavoring  to 
^; avoid  vulgar  terms,  he  too  frequently  dignifies  trilles,  a^d 


FIRST     LECTUKE.  297 

clothes  common  thoughts  in  a  splendid  dress  that  would  be 
rich  enough  for  the  noblest  ideas.  In  short,  we  are  too  often 
reminded  of  that  great  man  Mr.  Prig,  the  auctioneer,  whose 
manner  was  so  inimitably  fine  that  he  had  as  much  to  say. 
upon  a  ribbon  as  a  Kaphael. 

•  "A  less  pardonable  fault  is  that  rage  for  indecency  which 
pervades  the  whole  work ;  but  especially  the  last  volumes.' 

I  will  add  another  extract,  which  though  taken  from  a 
;work  more  accessible  than  Person's  writings,  is  generally  so 
able  and  judicious  in  its  criticisms  on  inlidel  authors,  as  I 
remarked  in  the  Preface,  that  I  am  disposed  to  do  all  I  can 
io  call  public  attention  to  them.  In  the  Periodical  to  which 
I  refer,  is  an  article  on  "Gibbon's  Miscellaneous  Works,"  in 
which  these  well-deserved  strictures  occur. 

"He  considered  the  progress  of  Christianity  as  a  disturb- 
ance of  the  quiet  and  established  rights  of  Paganism ;  and 
the  Eeformation,  though  he  allowed,  to  a  certain  extent,  its 
beneficial  influence  on  mental  freedom,  as  another  invasion 
of  the  quiet  and  settled  claims  of  popery.  Ilis  serious  (if  in 
such  a  writer  it  be  possible  to  discover  what  is  serious  and 
what  is  not,  but  his  apparently  serious)  and  strong  pailiaUty 
;  for  Mahommedism,  was  a  singular  phenomenon.  Insulting 
and  discarding  Christianity  for  the  follies  and  inconsistencies 
of  its  professors,  which,  at  worst,  were  no  more  than  a  recoil 
vof  human  passions  upon  its  genuine  influence,  he  could  en- 
odure,  nay,  he  could  applaud  the  Mahommcdan  imposture, 
'though  slaughter,  devastation,  and  military  fanaticism  were 


298  NOTES     TO 

parts  of  its  constitution.  But  fcbe  secret  (a  secret  perhaps  tc 
Kimself)  was,  that  the  objects  on  which  thofee  terrible  quali- 
ties were  exercised  happened  to  be  Jews  and  ChristiansJ' 
against  whom  intolerance  itself  was  to  be  tolerated,  and 
every  license  was  lawful.  In  his  insidious  attacks  upon  the 
Gospel,  he  had  reckoned  too  securely  upon  the  apathy  and 
indifference  of  his  countrymen ;  but  shocked  and  confound 
ed  as  he  owns  himself  to  have  been,  by  the  consequences  of 
his  mistake,  he  put  forth  all  his  powers  of  sarcasm,  irony, 
and  vindictive  scorn,  on  his  indiscreet  and  unfortunate  ad- 
versaries. In  him,  the  man  and  the  writer  (it  is  no  unusual 
inconsistency)  were  too  different  creatures.  Affectionate  and  , 
^ven  piously  attentive  to  relatives  who  could  contribute  lit- 
tle to  his  entertainment,  and  nothing  to  his  emolument,  con- 
stant in  unequal  friendships,  and  grateful  to  fallen  greatness, 
it  is  impossible  not  to  pronounce  him  so  far  an  amiable  man. 
It  is  difficult  to  discover  how  it  came  to  pass,  that  a  man 
who  delighted  in  the  conversation  of  chaste  and  accomplished 
women,  and  whose  correspondence  with  friends  even  of  his 
own  sex,  is  wholly  untinctured  with  pruriency  of  imagina- 
tion, should,  in  the  great  work  in  whicb  his  reputation  wa^ 
embarked,  have  had  so  little  regard  to  the  public  and  him- 
self, as  to  pour  out  such  torrents  of  ancient  indecency.  It 
is  no  apology  for  this  insult  upon  the  public  morals  (a  sys- 
tematic and  persevering  insult  of  many  years  continuance) 
that  the  poiSon  was  confined  to  his  notes,  and  enveloped  in 
cover  of  a  dead  and  difficult  language.  It  did  more  mischief 
than  his  infidolity.    It  addressed  itself  to  the  imagination 


FIRST     LECTURE.  209. 

and  the  passions  of  an  age  which  needed  not  to  be  inflamed 
by  intellectual  incentives  to  the  youth  of  our  great  school^ 
and  universities,  who,  captivated  by  the  seductive  charms  of 
his  text,  would  be  farther  attracted  by  the  learned  semblance 
of  his  notes,  to  descend  to  the  polluted  margin  where  they 
might  decipher  Greek,  and  drink  in  vice  and  profligacy  by 
the  same  effort.  We  had  once  formed  the  impract' cable  reso- 
lution of  expunging  the  offensive  passages,  of  both  descrip- 
tions, from  our  copy  of  the  Decline  and  Fall.  The  ribaldry, 
indeed,  of  the  notes  might,  by  a  due  degree  of  perseverance, 
have  been  expelled,  and  a  blotted  page  might  well  have  been 
j|.toned  for  by  the  comparative  purity  of  what  remained: 
but  the  sneers  and  sarcasms,  the  hints  and  allusions,  the  sly, 
depreciating  associations,  and  the  comparisons  of  the  text, 
could  by  no  art  or  effort  be  removed. 

Qoinquo  paleestritce  licot  haec  plantaria  vellant, 
Huud  tainen  ista  filix  u!lo  mansuosclt  aratro. — Pers. 

So  incorporated  indeed  are  these  vices  with  the  very  tex- 
ture and  tissue  of  the  work,  that  it  would  be  as  easy  to  ex- 
tract, thread  by  tliread,  the  offensive  and  hideous  figures 
sometimes  woven  into  a  piece  of  ancient  tapestry,  as  to  de- 
Jach  those  parts  from  Gibbon's  History,  and  leave  anything 
but  the  trama  fignrce  behind.  This  maturity  in  intellectual 
yice  he  appears  to  have  attained  only  in  his  lat  -r  days.  In 
Jiis  journal,  written  at  three  and  twenty,  he  speaks  of  the  im- 
purities of  Juvenal  in  a  manner  which  shows  his  imagina- 
tion, and  the  principle  at  least  of  his  morals,  to  have  been 


300  NOTES     TO 

yet  untainted.  It  is  edifying,  however,  to  observe,  that  hav- 
ing abandoned  the  Gospel,  the  Gospel  abandoned  Mm;  and 
that  he  is  driven  to  the  defence  of  his  immoralities  upon  a 
principle  which  proves  how  much  better  a  casuist  is  the 
meanest  Christian,  than  the  greatest  philosopher." 

,  Although  two  or  three  sentences  of  this  extract  are 
qiioted  in  the  body  of  the  Lecture  to  which  this  note  refers, 

■J,  have  thought  my  readers  would  be  gratified  to  have  placed 
before  them  a  more  extended  exhibition  of  the  ability  with 
which  Dr.  Whitaker  has  analyzed  the  spirit  of  Gibbon's 
hostility. 

(.  .  The  same  sentiment,  though  perhaps  somewhat  inten- 
sified, was  held  by  this  standard  work,  when,  a  quarter  of  a 
century  afterwards,  it  reviewed  Milman's  edition  of  the  "De- 
dine  and  Fall,"  beginning  the  article  with  the  declaration: 
"  It  was  an  evil  hour  for  the  best  interests  of  mankind 
when  Gibbon  undertook  to  write  the  history  of  "  The  De- 
cline and  Fall  of  the  Eoman  Empire."  If  the  subject  was 
well  chosen,  and  he  in  many  respects  admirably  qualified  to 
do  it  justice,  so  much  the  worse.  The  literary  ;nerits  of  the 
work  only  secured  a  wider  range  for  the  infidel  principles 
mixed  up  with  it ;  and,  as  from  the  nature  of  the  subject,  it 
was  sure  to  be  read  by  the  young  far  more  than  by  those  of 
mature  age  and  established  opinions,  there  is  no  telling  the 
number  of  minds  it  may  have  unsettled.  The  poison  too, 
was  put  in  circulation  without  any  label  on  the  wrapper;  for 
who  would  expect  a  history  of  Eome  to  be  made  the  vehicle 


FIRST     LECTURE.  301 

of  a  malignant  attack  upon  Christianity  ?"  *  *  *  *  Whe- 
ther we  turn  to  the  characters  he  dwells  upon  with  dispix)- 
portionate  interest — ^the  features  of  a  picture  he  exhibits  in 
the  most  prominent  relief-— the  critical  scrupulosity  witli 
which  he  investigates  the  most  nauseous  details,  sifting  them 
with  the  pertinacity  and  relish  of  a  duck  filtering  the  filthiest 
mud  for  its  meal — whether  we  track  the  spirit  of  the  man 
by  its  slime  through  a  dirty  quotation,  a  sly  inuendo,  a  lux- 
urious amplification — all  concur  to  show  that  the  mind  was 
inveterately  sensual." 

Out  of  the  many  able  writers  who  might  be  quoted  in 
this  connection,  I  will  refer  to  but  one  more — Sir  James 
Mackintosh,  well  versed  as  he  was  in  the  question  of  what 
history  ought  to  be  in  order  to  render  it  reliable  and  in- 
structive. Though  I  would  hardly  comcide  in  his  quaint 
remark  that  "Gibl)on  could  have  been  cut  out  of  a  corner 
of  Burke's  mind  without  his  missing  it,"  his  judgment  erf 
Gibbon  as  a  historian  had  been  carefully  matured. 

"The  sixteenth  chapter,"  he  says,  "I  cannot  help  con- 
sidering as  a  vei'j  ingenious  and  specious,  but  very  disgrace- 
ful extenuation  of  the  cruelties  perpetrated  by  the  Roman 
magistrates  against  the  Christians.  It  is  written  in  the  most, 
contemptibly  factious  spirit  of  prejudice  against  the  sufferers: 
it  is  unworthy  of  a  philosopher  and  of  a  man  of  humanity. 
Let  his  narrative  of  Cyprian's  death  be  examined.  He  had 
to  relate  the  murder  of  an  innocent  man,  of  advanced  ajore, 

and  in  station  deemed  venerable  by  a  considerable  body  of 

19 


NOTES     TO 

the  provincials  of  Africa — put  to  death  because  he  refused 
to  sacrifice  to  Jupiter.  Instead  of  pointing  the  indignation 
ofiiposterity  against  such  an  atrocious  act  of  tyranny,  he 
dwells  with  visible  art  on  all  the  smaller  circumstances  of 
decorum  and  politeness  which  attended  this  murder,  and 
which  he  relates  with  as  much  parade  as  if  they  were  the 
inost  irnportant  particulars  of  the  eventi"  ::(   (  -^s 

Page  48. 

c.  The  following  occurrence  is  taken  ftom  Ilaldane's  Me- 
tnoir.  It  serves  to  shed  a  fresh  liglit  on  the  imperisha;- 
ble  endurance  of  the  Holy  Scripture.  The  charactet^'  itf- 
troduced  in  the  story  are  well  known.  '  '^ 

(.  ^'I  was  dining,"  said  Dr.  Buchanan,  "some  time  ago,  with 
It'  literary  party  at  old  Mr.  Abercrombie's,  of  Trill ibody, 
(the  father  of  Mr.  Kalph  Abercrombie,  who  was  slain  in 
Egypt,)  and  we  spent  the  evening  together.  A  gentleman 
jpresent  put  a  question  which  puzzled  the  whole  company, 
tt  was  this:  'Supposing  all  the  New  Testaments  in  the  world 
had  been  destroyed  at  the  end  of  the  third  century,  could 
their  contents  have  been  recovered  from  the  writings  of  the 
first  three  centuries?'  The  question  was  novel  to  all,  and  no 
one  even  hazarded  a  guess  in  answer  to  the  inquiry. 
^.  ]*(' About  two  months  after  this  meeting  I  received  an  in- 
titatioh  to  breakfast  with  Ix>rd  Hailes  (Sir  David  Dalrym^ 
pie)  next  morning.  He  had  been  one  of  the  party.  During 
breakfast  he  asked  me  if  I  recollected  the  curious  question 


FIRST  LECTURE.  303 

about  the  possibility  of  recovering  the  conteiits  of  the  N^ 
yestament  from  the  writings  of  the  first  three  centuries.  *1 
remember  it  well,  and  thought  of  it  oflen,  without  being 
uble  to  form  an  opinion  or  conjecture  on  the  subject*  -" 
"  'Well,'  said  Lord  Hailes,  'that  question  quite  accorded 
with  the  taste  of  my  antiquarian  mind  On  returning  home, 
as  I  knew  I  had  all  the  writers  of  those  centuries,  I  began 
immediately  to  collect  them,  that  I  might  set  to  work  on  the 
arduous  task  as  soon  as  possible.'  Pointing  to  a  table  cx)ver- 
ed  with  papers,  he  said,  'There  I  have  been  busy  these  two 
months,  searching  for  chapters,  half  chapters,  and  sentences 
of  the  New  Testament,  and  have  marked  down  what  I  found 
and  where  T  found  it,  so  that  any  person  may  examine  and 
see  for  himself.  I  have  actually  discovered  the  whole  New 
Testament,  except  seven  or  eleven  verses,  (I  forget  which,) 
which  satisfies  me  that  I  could  discover  them  also.  God 
concealed  or  hid  the  treasures  of  his  Word  where  Julian, 
the  apostate  emperor,  and  the  other  enemies  of  Christ,  who 
wished  to  extirpate  the  gospel  from  the  world,  never  would 
have  thought  of;  and  though  they  had,  they  never  ooujd 
have  effected  their  destruction.'  " 

Page    58. 

In  this  Lecture  and  in  the  fifth  of  the  present  series, 
(see  pp.  237,  238.)  I  speak  of  the  present  day,  perhaps  I 
should  say  the  last  half  century,  as  an  epoch  remarkable 
for  the  increased  spread  of  the  Bible.     The  following  sta- 


804  NOTES     TO     FIRST     LECTURE. 

tistics  on  the  subject,  must   be  viewed  with,  interest  by 

every  friend  of  religion. 

According  to  the  best  information  which  I  cap  obtain,  the 
wiiolfe  number  of  Bibles  in  circulation  ftfty  y^ts  ago, 
was  about 4,000,000 

Since  that  time  there  have  been  published  by 

various  Bible  Societies,  not  less  than      .      40,000,000 

The  sa^^  number  at  least  have  been  published 
t       by^  individuals  on  their  own  account,      .      49^000,000 


^^  .                                               Making  in  all,  80,000,000 
^,Jf  we  allow  20,000,000,  for  destruction  or  loss 
of  Books  by  wear  and  tear  during  this  pe- 

j^^  .    riod  we  have  then 60,000,000 

Bibles  now  in  circulation,  instead  of  the         .  4,000,000 

which  were  in  circulation  fifty  years   since.     In   other 

:      words,  within, the  last  half  century  Bibles  have  been 

'v. 

multiplied  fifteen  fold. 

These  estimates  are  furnished  by  intelligent  Officers 
of  Bible  Societies,  who  have  given  careful  attention  to 
,  ftscertain  the  facts  in  the  case.  It  is  worthy  of  note  tliat 
50,000,000  of  this  aggregate  of  Bibles  have  been  publish- 
ed in  the  English  Language. 


ios 


)Emm  s®  giESDsriD  it^ESSwaiEc 


Page  61. 

Bishop  Burnet's  account  of  Rochester's  conversioii  and 
death,  which  is  so  warmly  commended  by  Dr.  Johnson,  ia 
not  the  only  notice  of  these  remarkable  events  that  may  be 
read  with  profit.  The  letters  written  by  the  Earl's  mother 
to  her  sister-in-law,  in  which  she  described  the  chang6  that 
tad  passed  on  her  son,  are  very  affecting,  and  the  funeral 
sermon  preached  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Parsons  on  occasion  of  tne 
Earl's  death,  gives  many  additional  incidents  of  fresh  interest. 

I  will  make  room  for  one  circumstance  that  is  especially 
memorable.  Fearing  that  the  reality  of  his  repentance 
might  be  questioned  after  his  deatli,  he  prepared  the  follow- 
ing declaration,  subscribed  it  in  the  presence  of  witnesses, 
and  left  the  request  that  it  might  be  published  ,to  the  world 
as  his  dying  testimony.  «'^^ 

"  For  the  benefit  of  all  those  whom  I  may  have  drawn 
into  sin  by  my  example  and  encouragement,  I  leave  to  the 
world  this  my  last  declaration,  which  I  deliver  in  the  pre- 
sence of  the  great  God,  who  knows  the  secrets  of  all  hearts, 
and  before  whom  I  am  to  be  judged ;  that  from  the  bottom 
of  my  soul  I  detest  and  abhor  the  whole  course  of  my  for- 


oWi  NOTES     TO 

iher  wicked  life ;  and  that  I  tliink  I  can  never  sufficiently 
admire  the  goodness  of  God,  who  has  given  me  a  true  sense 
bJT  my  pernicious  opinions  and  vile  practices,  by  which  I 
have  liitherto  lived  without  hope,  and  without  God  in  the 
world ;  have  been  an  open  enemy  to  Jesus  Christ,  doing  the 
utmost  despite  to  the  holy  Spirit  of  grace;  and  that  the 
greatest  testimony  of  my  charity  to  such  is,  to  warn  them, 
in  the  name  of  God,  and  as  they  regard  the  welfare  of  their 
nhmortal  souls,  no  more  to  deny  his  being  or  his  providence, 
bi:  despise  his  goodness ;  no  more  to  make  a  mock  of  sin,  or 
6tmtemn  the  pure  and  excellent  religion  of  my  ever-blessed 
Iledeemer ;  through  whose  merits  alone,  I,  one  of  the  great- 
^  of  sinners,  do  yet  hope  for  mercy  and  forgiveness.  Amen. 
fio.J.Ju,,  ,.,^H.,!,,uK«.n.ui^       "J.EOCHESTEB.    : 

\Miii^ Delivered  and  signed  June  19,  1680,  in  the  j)resence  of 

. , , : !  ;  u ui  1  ij  I ti  ^ j^-j^  Rochester.  : "  ^ 

^  biii'.  ^'     '■   ^'«R.  Parsons,"     ^''^^ 

% TJil 


Page  62. 

-aia 


"However  united  the  men  whom  I  have  here  named  may 
have  been  in  their  hostility  to  Christianity,  they  were  not* 
always  on  the  most  amiable  terms  with  each  other;  nor  does 
their  mutual  admiration  seem  to  have  been  proof  against 
change.  The  explosion,  for  it  deserves  no  better  name,  be- 
ti^^en  Hume  and  Rousseau,  forms  a  most  ridiculous  episode 
i^^the  lives  of  the  two  men. 


SECOND    LECTURE.         '  307 

When  Ilume  met  witli  Eousseau  at  Paris  in  1765,  he 
writes  in  the  most  exaggerated  styl^  respecting  the  value  of 
Jjie  acquaintance  he  had  formed.  .,  In.  ^letter  addressed  to 
Dr.  Blair,  he  says,  \ 

"People  may  talk  of  ancient  Greece  as  they  please ;  but 
np  nation  was  ever  so  fond  of  genius  as  this,  and  no  person 

Ol't     ::    ■■     - 

ever  so  much  engaged  their  attention  as  Rousseau.   Voltair^ 
and  every  body  else  are  quite  eclipsed  by  him.  : 

"I  am  sensible  that  ray  connections  with  him  add  to 
my  importance  at  present.  Even  his  maid,  La  Vasseur,  who 
is  very  homely  and  very  awkward,  is  more  talked  of  than 
tiiie  Princess  of  Mprocc9  or  the  Countess  of  Egmont,  on,^ 
count  of  her  fidelity  and  attachment  towards  him.  His^vejry 
dog,  who  is  no  better  than  a  collie,  has  a  name  and  reputation 
in  the  world.  As  to  my  intercourse  with  him,  I  find  liim 
mild, , and  gentle,  and  modest,  and  good-humored;  hc^has 
more  the  behaviour  of  a  man  of  the  world  than  any  of  the 
learned  here,  except  M.  de  Buffon ;  who,  in  his  figure  and 
air,  and  deportment,  answers  your  idea  of  a  marechal  of 
France  rather  than  that  of  a  philosopher.  M.  Rousseau  is  of 
small  stature,  and  would  be  rather  ugly,  had  he  not  the 
finest  physiognomy  in  the  world :  I  mean  the  most  expres- 
sive countenance.  His  modesty  seems  not  to  be  gpodi  man^; 
nerS;,  but  ignorance  of  his  own  excellence.  As  he  writes^ 
aiid  speaks,  and  acts,  from  the  impulse  of  genius,  morp  than 
from  the  use  of  his  ordinary  faculties,  it  is  very  likely  that 
he  forgets  its  force  wlienever  it  is  laid  asleep.  I  am  well  asv 
Burcd  that  at  times  ho  believes  he  ha^.  i^pirations  from  an 


308  *  NOTES     TO 

immediate  communication  with  tlie  Divinity.  He  falls  some- 
times into  ecstasies,  which  retain  him  in  the  same  posture 
for  hours  together.  Does  not  this  example  solve  the  dif- 
ficulty of  Socrates'  genius,  and  of  his  ecstasies?  I  think 
Rousseau  in  many  things  very  much  resembles  Socrates. 
The  philosopher  of  Geneva  seems  only  to  have  more 
genius  than  he  of  Athens,  who  never  wrote  any  thing; 
and  less  sociableness  and  temper.  Both  of  them  were  of 
very  amorous  complexions;  but  a  comparison  in  this  par- 
ticular, turns  out  much  to  the  advantage  of  my  friend. 
I  call  him  such,  for  I  hear,  from  all  hands,  that  his  judg- 
ment and  affections  are  as  strongly  biased  in  my  favor 
as  miqc  are  in  his." 

I  will  not  dwell  on  the  rise  and ,  progress  of  the  bitter 
quarrel  which  followed  this  enthusiastic  panegyric,  but 
will  simply  refer  to  another  letter  which  Hume  wrote  to 
Dr.  Blair  the'  following  year,  in  which  he  displays  a  tem- 
per by  no  means  enviable. 

"You  will  be  surprised,  dear  Doctor,"  he  writes  "when 
I  desire  you  most  earnestly,  never  in  your  life  to  show 
to  any  mortal  creature  the  letters  I  wrote  you  with  re- 
gard to  Rousseau.  He  is  surely  the  blackest  and  mos^l 
atrocious  villain,  beyond  comparison,  that  now  exists  in 
the  world,  and  I  am  heartily  ashamed  of  any  thing  I  ever 
wrote  in  his  favor.  I  know  you  will  pity  me  when  I  tell 
you. that  I  am  afraid  I  must  publish  this  to  the  world  in 
'a  pamphlet,  which  must  contain  an  account  of  the  whole 


SECOND     LECTURE, 


309 


ti'ansaction  between  us.  My  only  comfort  is,  that  the 
matter  will  be  so  clear  as  not  to  leave  to  any  mortal  the 
smallest  possibility  of  doubt  You  know  how  dangerous 
any  controversy  on  a  disputable  point  would  be  mth;  ia 
man  of  his  talents.  I  know  not  where  the  miscreant  will 
now  retire  to,  in  order  to  hide  his  head  from  this  infamy'.^* 

Page  67.  '^  ^^'^ 

The  account  of  this  incident  in  the  life  of  Franklin  is 
taken  almost  word  for  word  from  a  paper  proverbially 
cautious  in  avoiding  everything  like  fiction;  and  I  havts 
been  the  more  iilclined  to  introduce  it,  because  this  dis* 
tinguished  man  has  been  too  often  regarded  as  having  no 
reverence  for  the  Bible. 

Page'81.  ., 

It  seems  that  when  Professor  Silliman  was  abroad  oil 

his  travels,  he  received  a  different  account  of  the  circum- 

.     I;    I 
stances  attending  the  death  of  Hume's  mother,  which  he 

considered  as  entitled  to  credit,  and  which  he  published. 

The  story  as  related  to  him,  was  that  Hume,  when  corf-^ 

firmed  in  his  own  infidelity,  "had  applied  himself  Avlth 

unwearied   and  unhappily  with  successful   efforts,   to  sap 

the   foundation  of  his  mother's  faith.     Having  succeeded 

in  this  dreadful  work,  he  went  abroad   into  foreign  douii^ 

tries ;   and  as  he  was  returning,  an   express  met  him  -  iii 


310 


NOTES     TO 


London,  with  a  letter  from  his  mother,  informing  him 
that  she  was  in  a  deep  dechne,  and  conld  not  long  sur- 
vive :  she  said  she  found  herself  without  any  support  in 
her  distress ;  that  he  had  taken  away  that  source  of  com- 
fort upon  which  in  all  cases  of  affliction  she  used  to  rely, 
and  that  she  now  found  her  mind  sinking  into  despair: 
she  did  not  doubt  that  her  son  would  afford  her  some 
substitute  for  her  religion,  and  she  conjured  him  to  hasten 
to  her,  or  at  least  to  send  her  a  letter  containing  such 
consolations  as  philosophy  can  afford  to  a  dying  mortal. 
Hume  was  overwhelmed  with  anguish  on  receiving  this 
letter,  and  hastened  to  Scotland,  travelling  day  and  night; 
but  before  he  arrived  his  mother  expired." 

When  this  representation  appeared,  a  nephew  of  Hume 
felt  himself  called  upon  to  contradict  it;  and  furnished 
an  account  of  the  affair  as  we  have  stated  it  in  the  Lec- 
ture. It  certainly  does  not  mend  the  matter  as  it  concerns 
Hume  himself  For  if  it  shows  that  his  mother  had  not 
been  misled  by  his  sophistry,  it  proves  from  his  own  hps 
his  want  of  sincerity,  his  habitual  violation  of  his  own 
sober  convictions  on  the  subject  of  religion. 

Page  83. 

I  will  refer  to  a  few  of  the  well  known  authorities 
that  have  pronounced  judgment  on  Mr.  Hume,  both  as  a 
philosopher  and  a   historian. 

When  accounting  for  the   attention  of  certain  classes 


SECOND     LECTURE.  311 

of  readers  which  his  impious  theories  once  gained,   Dr. 
Beattie  observes; 

"The  corrupt  judge ;  the  prostituted  courtier;  the  states- 
,.man  who  enriches  himself  by  the  plunder  and  blood  of 
his  country;  the  pettifogger,  who  fattens  on  the  spoils  of 
the  fiitherless  and  widows;  the  oppressor,  who  to  pamper 
his  beastly  appetite  abandons  the  deserving  peasant  to  beg- 
gary and  despair;  the  hypocrite,  the  debauchee,  the  game- 
ster, the  blasphemer ; — ^prick  up  their  ears  when  they  are 
told  that  a  celebrated  author  has  written  a  book  containing 

.  doctrines,  or  leading  to  such  consequences  as  the  following ; 
— '  That  moral  and  intellectual  virtues  are  nearly  of  the 
same  kind;'  in  other  words,  that  to  want  honesty  and  to 
want  understanding,  are  equally  the  objects  of  moral  dis- 
approbation— ^that  every  human  action  is  necessary,  and 
could  not  have  been  different  from  what  it  is : — that  when 
we  speak  of  power  as  an  attribute  of  any  being,  God  him- 
self not  excepted,  we  use  words  without  meaning: — ^that 
we  can  form  no  idea  of  power,  nor  of  any  being  endowed 

i;  with  any  power,  much  less  of  one  endowed  with  infinite 
power : — that  we  can  never  have  reason  to  believe  that  any 
object  or  quality  of  an  object  exists,  of  which  we  cannot 
form  an  idea: — ^that  it  is  unreasonable  to  believe  God  to 
be  infinitely  wise  and  good,  while  there  is  any  evil  or  dis- 
order in  the  universe ;  and  that  we  have  no  good  reason 

:  to  think  that  the  universe  proceeds  from  a  cause: — ^that 
the,  external  world  does  not  exist ;  or  at  least  that  its  ex- 
istence may  reasonably  be  doubted,  and  that  if  the  exter- 


'^12  NOTES     TO 

nal  world  be  once  called  in  doubt,  we  shall  be  at  a  loss 
to  find  arguments  by  wliicli  we  may  prove  tbe  existence 
of  the  Supreme  Being  or  any  of  his  attributes: — ^that 
those  who  believe  any  thing  certainly,  are  fools; — that 
'adultery  must  he  practised^  if  men  would  obtain  all  the  ad- 
vantages of  life;  that  if  generally  practised  it  would  in  time 
cease  to  he  scaridalous,  and  that  if  practised  secretly  and  fre- 
quently, it  ivould  hy  degrees  come  to  he  thought  no  crime  at 
all: — that  the  question  concerning  the  substance  of  the 
soul  is  unintelligible: — that  matter  and  motion  may  often 
be  regarded  as  the  cause  of  thought: — ^that  the  soul  of 
man  becomes  every  different  moment  a  different  being;' 
''from  which  doctrine  it  must  follow,  as  a  consequence,  that 
the  actions  I  perfortoed  last  year,  or  this  morning,  vfhe- 
ther  virtuous  or  vicious,  are  no  more  imputable  to  me 
than  the  virtues  of  Aristides  are  imputable  to  Nero,  or 
the  crimes  of  Nero  to  the  man  of  Eoss." 

When  Dr.  Magee,  Archbishop  of  London,  had  quoted 
these  observations  of  Dr.  Beattie,  he  adds — "And  yet  it 
is  of  such  a  man  as  this,  that  such  a  man  as  Adam  Smith 
has  delivered  the  following  testimony; — 'I  have  always 
considered  Mr,  Hume,  both  in  his  lifetime  and  since  his 
death,  as  approaching  as  nearly  to  the  idea  of  a  perfectly 
wise  and  virtuous  man,  as  perhaps  the  nature  of  human 
frailty  will  permit.'  " 

"But  this  is  not  all."  Dr.  Magee  proceeds,  "Mr.  Hume 
had  not  done  enough,  it  seems,  for  the  extinction  of  re- 
ligion and  the  subversion  of  morals;   but,  with  a  zeal  be- 


SECOND     LECTURE.  ^^ 

speaking  liis  fidelity  to  tlie  master  wliom  lie  served,  lie 
left  behind  him  blasphemies  to  be  published  after  his  death, 
which  even  he  was  afraid  to  publish  while  he  lived;  so  in- 
deed, his  great  admirer  tells  us,  in  his  'Apology  for  the 
Life  and  Writings  of  David  Hume;'  whose  posthumous 
papers,  he  says,  would  probably  'carry  his  philosophy 
still  nearet  to  that  point  which  he  might  not  think  it 
-discreet  to  push  too  vigorously  in  his  lifetime.'  What  that 
point  was,  is  but  too  evident  on  a  single  glance  at  the 
works  which  he  thus  bequeathed  for  the  public  benefit. 
The  Dialogues  on  Natural  Religion,  and  the  Essay  on 
Suicide,  are  standing  monuments  of  a  heart  as  wicked, 
and  a  head  as  weak,  as  ever  belonged  to  any  man  who 
pretended  to  the  character  of  a  philosopher  and  a  moral' 
ist.  To  leave  deliberately,  as  a  legacy  to  mankind,  a  re* 
commendation  of  self-murder^  and  an  assurance  that  there 
is  no  God,  at  the  very  moment  when  he  was  himself 
about  to  appear  before  the  bar  of  that  dread  Being ;  and 
whilst  thus  occupied  for  the  destruction  of  his  fellow-crea- 
tures, to  amuse  himself  with  pleasant  conceits  about  Charon 
and  his  ferry-boat,  (as  his  biographer  informs  us  he  did, 
when  he  was  almost  dropping  into  his  grave,)  has  something 
in  it  so  frightful,  that  one  naturally  recoils  from  the  thought 
of  it  with  horror.  It  seems  to  be  equalled  only  by  the 
hideous  impiety  of  Diderot,  who  adduces  it  as  a  decisive 
proof  of  the  non-existence  of  a  God,  that  he  was  permitted 
to  write  a  work  filled  with  blasphemies  against  his  nature, 
and  arguments  against  his  being." 


314  NOTES     TO 

Dr.  Magee  had  made  himself  thoroughly  acquainted 
with  the  spirit  of  Hume's  writings ;  and  after  having  giv- 
en ample  proofs  of  his  sophistry  and  disingenuousness  on 
questions  of  morality  and  religion,  he  goes  on  to  say: 

"  It  is  but  fair,  however,  to  conf jss  that  Mr.  Hume  has 
not  confined  altogether  to  religious  subjects,  his  talent  of 
disingenuous  representation.  His  unfaithfulness,  and  gross 
partiality,  as  a  historian^  have  been  long  pretty  generally 
acknowledged;  and  it  has  been  pronounced  by  judicious 
and  candid  writers,  upon  the  subject  of  English  history, 
that  the  History  which  Mr.  Hume  has  given  to  the  world 
is  a  most  injurious  work  to  put  into  the  hands  of  the 
British  youth,  in  order  to  give  them  just  ideas  of  the  his- 
tory or  constitution  of  England."  *  *  '^  No  friend  to 
humanity,  and  to  the  freedom  of  this  kingdom,,  will  con- 
sider his  constitutional  inquiries,  with  their  effect  upon  his 
narrative,  and  compare  them  with  the  ancient  and  vener- 
able monuments  of  our  story,  without  feeling  a  lively  sur- 
prise, and  a  patriot  indignation." 

In  this  connection.  Dr.  Magee  quotes  Mr.  Fox,  Dr. 
Towers  and  others,  as  having  the  same  views  with  himself. - 

But  there  is  still  another  writer  not  named  by  Dr. 
Magee,  who  should  by  no  means  be  overlooked.  Mr.  Bro- 
die,  in  his  "History  of  the  British  Empire  from  the  Ac- 
cession of  Charles  I.  to  the  Kestoration — including  a  par- 
ticular examination  of  Mr.  Hume's  statement  respecting 
-the  character  of  the  English  government,"  has  given  such 


SECOND     LECTURE.-  Sl^v 

proof  of  Hiime's  dishonesty  as  must  strike  every  read- 
er with  amazement  at  his  unblushing  hardihood.  He 
has  shown  that  the  very  authorities  to  which  Hume 
seems  to  refer,  often  convict  him  of  misrepresentations  that 
must  have  been  wilfully  made.  Take  an  example.  With 
Hume's  preferences  for  royalty  and  irreligion,  it  may  well 
be  supposed  he  had  no  great  friendship  for  Cromwell; 
and  in  order  to  depreciate  the  standing  of  that  disting-uished 
leader  in  the  Commonwealth  of  England,  especially  during 
the  early  stages  of  his  career,  Hume  asserts,  that  after  the 
meeting  of  parUament  in  1640,  "Cromwell's  name  for  above 
two  years,  is  not  to  be  found  oftener  than  twice  upon  any 
committee — and  those  committees  into  which  he  was  ad- 
mitted were  chosen  for  affairs  which  would  more  interest 
the  Zealots  than  the  men  of  business ;"  and  he  makes  this 
statement  in  a  manner  which  leads  his  readers  to  suppose 
that  he  had  full  authority  from  the  Journals  of  the  House 
for  his  assertions.  Mr.  Brodie  has  examined  these  official 
records,  and  finds  that  during  the  period  of  which  Hume 
speaks,  Cromwell  was  appointed  on  forty-five  committees. 
He  enumerates  the  dates  when  the  committees  were  raised, 
and  the  subjects  referred  to  them;  showing  that  Crom- 
well acted  a  leading  part  on  all  affiiirs  which  could  inte- 
rest "men  of  business,,"  Mid  which  were  then  brought  be- 
fore parliament.  ^    -■  .' 

Mr.  Brodie's  book  should  be  carefully  read  by  those 
who  wish  to  understand  the  glaring  and  reckl.  ss  misrepre- 
sentations of  which  Hume  has   been  guiliy.     His  investi- 


316  NOTES     TO 

gations  are  thorough  and  impartial.  It  is  a  pity  he  has 
not  given  more  finish  and  symmetry  to  his  work.  He  hae 
collected  ample  and  valuable  materials,  all  well  authenti- 
cated. But  he  should  have  remembered  that  manner  as 
well  as  matter,  is  of  importance  in  displacing  "Ilume'i^ 
E,ngland"  from  its  too  general  popularity.  No  one,  how- 
ey^er,  can  deny  that  he  has  done  enough  to  convict  Hume 
of  what  utterly  destroys  his  credibility  on  aiiy  subject  re- 
lating, to  religious  truth  or  civil  rights. 

"j^  serpent  under  a  bed  of  roses,''  is  the  expressive 
^niili'tude  under  which  Hannah  More  describes  Hume's 
History;  and  she  has  sketched  with  great  truth  its  dan- 
gerous tendency  when  she  says, 

■  "There  is  a  sedateness  in  liis  manner,  which  imposes; 
a  sly  gravity  in  his  scepticism,  which  puts  the  reader 
more  off  his  guard  than  the  vehemence  of  censure,  or 
the  levity  of  wit;  for  we  are  always  less  disposed  to  sus- 
pect a  man  who  is  too  wise  to  appear  angry.  That  same 
wisdom  makes  him  too  correct  to  invent  calumnies,  but 
it  does  not  preserve  him  from  doing  what  is  scarcely  less 
disingenuous.  He  implicitly  adopts  the  injurious  relations 
of  those  annalists  who  were  most  hostile  to  the  Eefonned 
faith;  though  he  must  have  known  their  accounts  to  be 
aggravated  and  discolored,  if  not  absolutely  invented.  He 
thus  makes  others  responsible  for  the  worst  things  he  as- 
fierts,  and  spreads  the  mischief  without  avowing  the  ma- 
lignity. "When  lie  speaks  from  himself,  the  sneer  is  so 
cool,    the  irony   so   sober,    the   contempt   so   discreet,    the 


SECOND    LECTURE.  31'/ 

moderation  so  insidious,  the  difference  between  Popish  big- 
otry and  Protestant  firmness,  between  the  fury  of  the  per- 
secutor and  the  resolution  of  the  martyi*,  so  little  marked ; 
the  distinctions  between  intolerant  frenzy  and  heroio  zeal 
BO  melted  into  each  other,  that  though  he  contrives  to 
make  the  reader  feel  some  indignation  at  the  tyrant,  he 
never  leads  him  to  feel  any  reverence  for  the  sufferer.  He 
ascribes  such  a  slender  superiority  to  one  religious  system 
above  another,  that  the  young  reader  who  does  not  come 
to  the  perusal  with  his  principles  formed,  will  be  in  dan- 
ger of  thinking  that  the  reformation  was  really  not  worth 
contending  for.  But,  in  nothing  is  the  skill  of  this  fto- 
complishcd  sophist  more  apparent  than  in  the  artful  way 
in  which  he  piques  his  readers  into  a  conformity  with  his 
own  views  concerning  religion.  Himian  pride,  lie  knew, 
naturally  likes  to  range  itself  on  the  side  of  abiUty.  He 
therefore  skillfully  works  on  this  passion,  by  treating  with 
a  sort  of  contemptuous  superiority,  as  weak  and  credulous 
men,  all  whom  he  represents  as  being  under  the  religious 
delusion.  To  the  shameful  practice  of  confounding  fanati- 
cism with  real  religion,  he  adds  the  disingenuous  habit 
of  accounting  for  the  best  actions  of  the  best  men,  by  re- 
ferring them  to  some  low  motive ;  and  affects  to  confound 
the  designs  of  the  religious  and  the  corrupt,  so  artfully, 
as  if  no  radical  difference  existed  between  them." 


Intelligent    readers  well    know   the    triumphant    tone 

with  which  we  have  been  told  that  the  two  great  histo- 

20 


318  NOTES     TO 

€;  • 

rians  of  tli(^  last  century  were  botli  of  them  infidels.  The 
object  of  this  boast  is  very  evident.  It  is  to  persuade  ,ua 
that  the  leading  facts  of  history  stand  opposed  to  the  truth 
of  Christijanity.  Tliis  consideration  has  led  me  to  furnish 
the  great  variety  of  testimony  which  I  have  inserted  in. 
these  notes,  showing  how  little  dependance  can  be  placed 
on  the  ti*'ith  and  integrity  of  either  Gibbon  or  Hume,  es-' 
Decially  when  the  subject  of  religion  is  in  question.  ^ 

Page  95. 

A  memorable  instance  of  this  weak  credulity  has  re- 
cently been  displayed  in  a  man  widely  known  for  the  part , 
He  has  acted  in  our  own  country.  The  "Evangelical  Cath- 
olic," quoting  from  the  "Dublin  Tablet,"  tells  us, 
■'"  "A  more  signal  exhibition  of  that  great  law  which  so 
oiten  punishes  unbelief  by  consigning  the  proud  intellect 
to  the  most  abject  credulity,  has  seldom  been  afforded  than 
by  Robert  Owen's  late  letter  to  the  Queen.  That  patriarch 
01  Socialism,  after  spending  nearly  his  whole  life  in  trying 
to  persuade  himself  and  others  that  he  had  'a  mission* 
to  found  a  new  state  of  society,  in  which  religion,  law, 
marringe,  and  private  property  should  be  unknown:  after 
preaching  disbelief  in  the  very  existence  of  God,  and  de- 
claring that  all  religions  alike  were  based  on  fanciful  no- 
tions and  prejudices,  has  now  come  out  as  the  herald  of 
a  new  faith.  Robert  Owen  proclaims  his  undoubting  faith 
in    'spirit   rappings,'  and   not  only  so,    but  is  a  'medium' 


SECOND     LECTURE.  319 

himself,  and  has  obtained  jevelations  from  the  spirit  of 
htT  Majesty's  late  royal  father,  the  Duke  of  Kent.  This 
ingenious  old  infidel,  who  considers  the  belief  in  *a  per- 
sonal Deity'  as  quite  an  exploded  and  irrational  absurd- 
ity, writes  a  letter  to  her  Majesty  in  the  Rational  Quar^^ 
(erly  Beuieio,  in  which  he  tells  her,  that  by  means  of  these 
Wrappings'  he  had  been  enabled  to  hold  'two  conferences, 
to  him  most  important  and  gratifying,'  with  the  deceased 
duke;  that  he  had  refrained  from  communicating  them 
to  her  Majesty  during  her  late  interesting  situation,  but 
that  he  now  had  the  duke's  permission  to  do  so ;  that  hie 
royal  highness  informed  him  that  he  was  *in  the  fourth 
sphere  and  first  circle,  and  that  he  was,  as  all  the  spirits 
were  in  his  sphere,  happy  in  a  very  high  degree.'  Being 
asked  whether  these  conferences  were  agreeable  to  him^ 
he  replied,  *Very  much  sol'  And  'Would  it  be  pleasant 
to  come  at  a  future  time?'  '  Yes.'  To  this  degree  of 
self-d.^ception,  or  Satanic  delusion,  or  mere  doting  folly, 
or  all  of  them  put  together,  has  this  proud  scoffer  been 
reduced ;  and  not  only  he,  but  many  thousands  of  people 
in  the  Unitjjd  States  and  elsewhere,  on  whose  minds  this 
species  of  necromancy  has  taken  such  a  hold  as  almost 
to  remind  one  of  the  wild  Gnostic  and  Manichaean  su- 
perstitions  wliich  the   Church  had  to  combat  in  primi- 


tive  ages 


f. 


•  Fanaticism,  as  the  offspring^  or  infidelity,  is  a  subject 
which  might  furnish  materials  for  a  very  useful  and  en- 


i$^  NOTES     TO 

^tertaining  volume.     Fanatics  are   a  race  that    has  nevier 

been  extinct ;    but  the  Bible  never  made   one  of  th^tn. 

They  are  found  in  greatest  numbers  where  the  Bible 
:6ever  was  read;   and  if  they  are  seen  where  that  holy 

book  i4  spread  and  known,  there  is  abundance  of  eyi- 
2  dience  to  shpw  that  the  wildest  fanaticism  which  has  ever 
"{disgraced'  the  human  understanding  docs  not  prevail  among 
f  those  who  receive  the  Bible  and  believe  in  it,  but  amopg 

those  who'  teject  it.  (f 

Page  99. 

hamd  mi 

9x1  J  'That'  aeute  observer  and  sprightly  writer,  the  Earl ( of 

'  Charlemont,  gives  us  the  following  account  of  Hume  when 

at  the  French  metropolis.  ,xijH  liioa 

"Hume's  fashion  at  Paris,  when  he  was  there  gJ^  Secre- 
tary to  Lord  Hertford,  was  truly  ridiculous;   and  nothing 
"  ever  marked,  in  a  -more  striking  manner,  the  whimsical 
'  genius  of  the  French.     No  man,  from  his  manners,  was 
surely  less  formed  for  their  society,  or  less  likely  to  meet 
-  with  approbation;   for  that  flimsy  philosophy,  which  per- 
!    vades  xind  deadens  even  their  most  licentious  novels,  was 
then  the  folly  of  the  day.    Freethinking  and  English  frocks 
.  were  the  fashion,  and  the  Anglo  mania  was  the  ton  du 
i:  pays.     Lord  Holland,   though  far  better  calculated    than 
"    Hume  to  please  in  France,  was  also  an  instance  of  this 
\  singular  predilection.     Being  about  this  time  on  a  visit:  to 
^r-- Paris,  the   French  concluded  that  an  Englishman  of  his 


SECOND     LECTURE.  'iSfti 

reputation  must  be  a  philosopher,  and  must/  l?9  admireO. 
'  It  was  customary  with  him  to  doze  after  dinner,  and  oiie 
day,  at  a  great  entertainment,  he  happened  t6  fail  a?leej^: 
"Ije  voila"  says  a  marquis,  pulling  his  neighbor  by  the 
Bleeve,  "Le  voilil,  qui  pense."  But  the  madness  for  Huiife 
was  far  more  singular  and  extravagant.  From  what  lites 
;  been  already  said  of  him,  it  is  apparent  that  His  convOr- 
'  '[^tion  to  strangers,  and  particularly  to  Frenchmen,  could 
be  little  delightful,  and  still  morie  particularly,  one  would 
suppose,  to  French  women.  And  yet  no  lady's  toilette 
was  complete  without  Hume's  attendance.  At  the  opera, 
his  broad  unmeaning  face  was  usually  seen  entre  deua 
jolis  minois.  The  ladies  in  France  give  the  ton,  and  the 
ton  was  deism ;  a  species  of  philosophy  ill  suited  to  #ie 
softer  sex.         *        *        *        *  \p 

"How  my  friend  Hume  was  able  to  endure  the  en- 
counter of  these  French  female  Titans  I  know  riot    In 
•   England,  either  his  philosophic  pride,  or    hid  conviction 
that  infidelity  was  ill  suited  to  woman,  mad6  him  per- 
fectly averse  from  the  initiation  of  ladies  iilto  the  mys^ 
'■  ries  of   his  doctrine.      I  never    saw  him    so    much   dis- 
pleased, or  so  much  disconcerted,  as  by  the  petulance  of 
Mrs.   Mallet,   the  conceited  wife   of  BolingbroTfe's  editor. 
-  This  lady,  who  was  not  acquainted  with  Hume,  meeting 
•him  one  night  at  an  assembly,  boldly  accosted  him  in  these 
•'-Words:    *Mr.    Hume,  give  me  leave  to  introduce  myself 
'  4o  you:  we  deists  ought  to  iknow  each  other  1' — 'Madam,' 
hie  replied,   *I  am  no  deist.    I  do  not  style  myself  ^  so, 


322  NOTES     TO     SECOND     LECTURE. 

.neither  do  I  desire  to  be  known  by  tliat  appellation/  " 
If  lie  was  not  a  deist,  then  what  was  he?  Did  he 
call  himself  an  atheist?  He  must  have  been  a  deist,  or 
something  worse,  for  he  certainly  was  not  a  believer  in 
Christianity  or  the  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures.  Perhaps 
he  was  himself  unable  to  say  what  he  was.  His  friend 
Lord  Charlemont  thought  that  "his  sceptical  turn  made 
him  doubt,  and  consequently  dispute  everything;  and  his 
understanding  was  so  far  warped  and  bent  by  this  un- 
fortunate predilection,  that  he  had  well  nigh  lost  that  best 
faTculty  of  the    mind,  the   almost  intuitive    perception  of 

toth." 

,  Hume,  in  his  '^Own  Life,"  tells  us,  "Those  who  hatB 
not  seen  the  strange  effects  of  modes,  will  never  imagine' 
the.  reception  I  met  ■  with  at  Paris,  from  men  and  women 
of  all  ranks  and  stations.  The  more  I  resiled  from  their 
excessive  civilities,  the  more  I  was  loaded  with  them. 
There  is,  however,  a  real  satisfaction  in  living  at  Paris; 
from  the  great  number  of  sensible,  knowing,  and  polite 
company  with  which  that  city  abounds  above  all  places 
in  the  universe.    I  once  thought  of  settling  there  for  life.**' 


ob  tf^tUha 
kfft  oil  % 

mam  m  ssmiD  a^iiswai.,.  ^ 

Page  119.         >    i  -  .MijhfifiO  fnoJ 
,      ,^ ,    ,.v,  r,.i.?  ^iffHoI)  mid 

Montesquieu's  belief  in  the  tmth' of  Christito'tj^'ba^ 
l?een  questioned  by  some,  but  without  reason.  -  His  Let- 
tres  Persanes,  written  in  his  younger  days,  trcat^^  tlie  Re- 
ligion of  those  times  in  France  with  a  levity  quite^iftJB 
unguarded.  But  in  his  maturer  years,  and  in  his  later 
and  more  studied  writings,  he  has  left  abundant  evidence 
of  his  reverenoe  for  the  Gospel  as  a  revelation  ftora  (j6di 
One  of  the  best  reviews  both  of  the  man  and  of  !&is  ^rit^^ 
ings,  which  have  recently  been  given  to  the  pulilic,''  i^ 
found  in  Blackrwood's  Magazine;  and  the  case  is  there  stJi^ 
ed  with  so  muclj  brevity  and  justice  that  I  avail  myself  of 
i1»  authority,    'viv.^.ii/l  ,,H,^f-R"^n  lodmiffi  iim^  odi  mori 

"In  his  Leiires  Persanes^^^  says  the  Reviewer,'  "though" 
he  had  never  assailed  the  great  principles  of  religitiif,  he 
had  in  his  sallies  against  the  Jesuits  gone  far  to  warrant 
the  belief  that  he  was  inclined  to  do  so ;  and  had  already 
done  enough  in  the  estimation  of  the  tyrannical  and  big- 
oted Ecclesiastics,  who  at  that  period  ruled  the  Church  oi 
France,  to  warrant  his  being  included  in  the  class  of  infi- 
del writers.    But  his  mind,  chastened  by  years,  enlightened 


324  NOTES     TO 

by  travelling  and  reflection,  had  come  to  cast  off  these 
prejudices  of  his  age  and  country,  the  necessary  result  of 
the  Bomish  tyranny  by  Avhich  it  had  been  oppressed,  but 
unworthy  of  'an  intellect  of  such  grasp  and  candor.  In 
the  Protestant  countries  of  Europe,  particularly  Holland 
and  England,  he  had  seen  the  working  of  Christianity  de- 
tached from  the  rigid  despotism  by  which  the  Church  of 
Rome  fetters  belief,  and  the  well-conceived  appliances  by 
which  it  stimulates  imagination  and  opens  a  refuge  for 
frailty.  Impressed  with  the  new  ideas  thus  awakened  in 
his  mind,  he  had  in  his  Esprit  des  Loix  pronounced  a 
studious  and  sincere  eulogium  on  Christianity ;  recommend- 
ing it,  not  only  as  the  most  perfect  of  all  systems  of  re- 
ligious belief,  but  as  the  only  secure  basis  of  social  order 
and  improvement.  It  was  material  to  correct  the  impres- 
sion, partly  just,  partly  erroneous,  which  his  earlier  and 
more  indiscreet  writings  had  produced ;  and  with  this  view 
he  wrote  and  published  his  Defence  de  VEsprit  des  Loix^ 

He  has  entitled  Book  xxiv  of  his  great  work,  "  Laws 
as  relative  to  Religion,  considered  in  itself  and  in  its  do6- 
trines;"  and  he  has  expressed  hunself  in  most  unequivo- 
cal terms,  when  he  says, 

"  As  in  this  work  I  am  not  a  divine,  but  a  political 
■writer,  I  may  here  advance  things  which  are  not  other- 
wise true,  than  as  they  correspond  with  a  worldly  man- 
ner of  thinking,  not  as  considered  in  their  relation  to 
truths  of  a  more  sublime  nature. 


THIBD     LECTURE.  "32i^ 

*'With   regard  to  the  true   religi(>n,  a  person   of  l^ljie 
'  lea^t  degree  of  impai-tiality  must  see,  that  I  have!  npvqr 
.^pretended  to  make  its  interests  submit  to  those  of  a  p'O- 
riltical  nature,  but  rather  to  unite  them;  now,  in  Or<ier' to 
unite,  it  is  necessary  that  Ave  should  know  them.  V    ;    : 
^I>  ^!;The  Christian  religion,  which  ordains  that  men' sh<t>uld 
"loVe  each  other,  would,  without  doubt,  have  evei'y  nation 
blest  with  the  best  civil,  the  best  political  laws;   becav^e 
these,  next  to  this  religion,  are  the  greatest  good  that  me^ 
can  give  and  receive."  ': 

5  !  ^*The  Christian  religion  is  a  stranger  to  mere  despot- 
ic power.  The  mildness  so  frequently  recommended .  in 
the  gospel,  is  incompatible  with  the  despotic  rago  -yvitih 
which  a  prince  punishes  his  pubjects,  and  qxeroisea  chiiiii- 
self  in  cruelty.  i  'vojqtni  Inir, 

"While  the  Mahometan  princes  incessantly  giyeo'or 
receive  death,  the  religion  of  the  Christians  renders  their 
princes  less  timid,  and  consequently  less  cruel.  The  prinde 
confides  in  his  subjects,  and  the  subjects  in  the  prince. 
;  ^ow  admirable  the  religion  which,  Avhile  it  only  seems  to 
have  in  view  the  felicity  of  the  other  life,  continues  the 
happiness  of  this  I 

"It  is  the  Christian  religion,  that,  in  spite  of  the  .ex- 
'tent  of  empire  and  the  influence  of  the  climate,  has  hin- 
dered despotic  power  from  being  established  in  Ethiopia, 
and   has  carried  into  the  heart  of  Africa,  thp.; -maimers 
and  laws  of  Europe.  ',  'M  V-   r  :: 

"  Let  us  set  before  our  eyes,  on  the  one  hand,  the  con- 


836  NOTES     TO 

tinual  massacres  of  the  kings  and  generals  of  the  Greeks 
and  Konums ;  and,  on  the  other,  the  destruction  of  people 
and  cities  by  thosj  famous  conquerors  Timour  Bgg  and 
Yengh'S  Khan,  who  ravaged  Asia ;  and  avc  shall  see  that 
wc  owe  to  Christianity,  in  government,  a  certain  political 
law,  and  in  war  a  certain  law  of  nations ;  benefits  which 
human  nature  can  never  sufficiently  acknowledge. 

"  It  is  owing  to  this  law  of  nations  that  amongst  us  vic- 
tory leaves  great  advantages  to  the  conquered — lif.',  liberty, 
laws,  wealth,  and  always  religion,  when  the  conqueror  is 
not  blind  to  his  own  interest." 

He  adds  in  a  subsequent  chapter : 

"Mr.  Bayle,  after  having  abused  sM  religions,  endeavora 
to  sully  Christianity.  He  boldly  asserts  that  true  Chris- 
tians cannot  form  a  government  of  any  duration.  Why 
not?  Citizens  of  this  profession  being  infinitely  enlight- 
ened in  respect  to  the  various  duties  of  life,  and  having  the 
warmest  zeal  to  fulfil  them,  must  be  perfectly  sensible  of 
the  rights  of  natural  defence.  The  more  they  believe  them- 
selves indebted  to  religion,  the  more  they  would  think  due 
to  their  country.  The  principles  of  Christianity,  deeply 
engraved  on  the  heart,  would  be  infinitely  more  powerful 
than  the  false  honor  of  monarchies,  than  the  humane  vir- 
tues of  republics,  or  the  servile  fears  of  despotic  states." 

Sueli  were  the  views  of  Montesquieu,  the  renowned 
"Founder  of  the  Philosophy  of  History,"  as  he  has  often 


THIRD     LECTURE.  .^  827 

been  called.  The  circumstances  of  his  death  were  in  full 
correspondence  with  the  sentiments  which  he  held  dur- 
ing the  best  years  of  his  life.    We  are  told 

"The  Jesuits  made  strenuous  endeavors  to  get  posses- 
sion of  him  during  his  last  moments;  but  though  strongly 
impressed  with  religious  principle^  he  resisted  all  theii- 
efforts  to  extract  from  him  a  declaration  in  favor  of  their 
peculiar  tenets.  '  I  have  always  respected  religion,'  said  he ; 
'the  morality  of  the  Gospel  is  the  noblest  gift  ever  bestow- 
ed by  God  on  man.'  The  Jesuits  strenuously  urged  liim 
to  put  into  their  hands  a  corrected  copy  of  the  Lettrcs  Per- 
sanes,  in  which  he  had  expunged  the  passages  having  an 
irreligious  tendency,  but  he  refused  to  give.it  to  them  ;  but 
he  gave  the  copy  to  the  Duchesse  d'Aiguillon  and  Madame 
Dupre  de  St.  Maur,  who  were  in  the  apartment,  with  in- 
structions for  its  publication,  saying,  '  I  will  sacrifice  every- 
thing to  religion,  but  nothing  to  the  Jesuits.' " 

Page  121. 

There  is  another  name  not  mentioned  in  the  body  of 
this  Lecture,  and  which  on  several  accounts  should  not  be 
overlooked  when  enumerating  great  men  who  have  avowed 
their  faith  in  Christianity.  I  refer  to  the  Emperor  Napoleon. 
His  brilhant  and  astonishing  career  created  an  excitement 
in  the  minds  of  all  classes,  which  for  a  time  rendered  him 
with  some  an  object  of  admiration  bordering  on  idolatry, 
and  with  others  the  subject  of  most  extravagant  and  un- 


328  NOTES     TO 

reasonable  abuse.     Few  spoke  of   him  or  judgoci  of  bifl 
deeds  with  cahnness  and  sobriety.     The  world  is  now  set* 
tl'mg  down  into  a  more  righteous  judgment  respecting  him 
and  his  eventful  life.     No  one  will  now  deny  that  he  waf 
one  of  the  most  extraordinary  men  that  ever  lived.     His 
intellect  had  a  vastness  of  might,  when  directed  to  any  sub- 
ject, that  enabled  him  to  master  its  strong  points  with  a  com- 
pleteness and  a  facility  very  seldom  equalled,  if  ever  suj^- 
passed.     His  fall  from  the  summit  of  power  where  he  had 
so  long  stood,  and  his  imprisonment  at  St.   Helena,  awoke 
deep  sympathy  for  liim  in  thousands  of  hearts ;  and  prayer 
was  made  for  him  without  ceasing,  that  in  his  affliction  he 
might  be.  led  to  own  the  hand  of  God.     It  is  not  for  man 
to  say  how  far  these  prayers  were  answered.     But  there  ik 
abundance  of  evidence  to  show  that  Christianity,  even  in 
his  busiest  seasons  and  during  his  most  splendid  achieve- 
ments, had  at  times  been  the  subject  of  serious  thought;  and 
that  in  the  solitude  of  his  banishment,  he  made  it  his  care- 
ful study,  and  was  in  the  end  a  decided  believer  in  its  trutli. 
The  subjoined  remarlcs  are  from  the  French  correspon- 
dent of  one  of  our  leading  religious  journals,  who  is  re- 
markable for    his  generally   sound  judgm.ent  on  passing 
events.     He  very  justly  remarks, 

"  Surely  we  have  all  asked  more  than  once :  Did  Napo- 
leon die  an  Infidel  or  a  Christian  ?    Did  this  extraordinary 
warrior,  who  for  eighteen  years  appeared  in  the  world  as 
an  instrument  of  Providence  to  punish  the  nations  and  to 
'  effect  vast  changes, — did  he  bow  his  haughty  head  at  the 


THIRD     LECTURE.  S^ 

foot  of  the  cross,  and  open  his  heart  to  the  truths  of  the 
Gospel  ?  It  is  difficult  to  answer  this  question  with  entire 
satisfaction.^  The  admirers  of  Napoleon  (and  among  them 
are  many  bishops  and  priests)  have  perhaps  forged  false 
facts,  or  exaggerated  true  facts  to  exalt  their  hero.  But 
Itowcver  doubtful,  it  is  interesting  to  collect  whatever  can 
throw  any  light  upon  the  religious  views  of  this  great  man, 
and  I  will  now  bring  to  your  view  some  documents  little 
known,  which  have  been  lately  published  by  a  French 
journal. 

,/jy  .Let  us  first  cast  a  rapid  glance,  since  the  occasion  offers, 
at  the  life  of  Napoleon,  considered  in  regard  to  religion. 

Buonaparte,  being  born  in  the  island  of  Corsica,  of  p&r 
rents  originally  from  Italy,  and  having  an  uncle  who  was  a 
priest,  received  in  early  life  religious  instruction.  It  is  pro- 
bable that  his  mother  sought  to  instil  into  his  mind  a  res- 
pect for  the  doctrines  of  popery ;  for  the  Corsicans  are,  in 
general,  more  attached  to  the  Komish  church  than  the 
French ;  and  even  now  preserve  some  antiquated  supersti- 
tions for  which  they  profess  a  singular  veneration.  Young 
Buonaparte,  raised  among  such  a  people,  must  necessarily 
have  imbibed  in  childhood  more  or  less  of  their  ideas.  But 
these  first  impressions  do  not  seem  to  have  lasted  long.  He 
was  soon  sent  to  a  military  school  in  France,  at  a  time 
when  the  infidel  philosophy  of  Yoltaire  and  Rosseau  had 
gained  an  almost  universal  assent.  -He  everywhere  heard 
the  doctrines  of  religion  scofied  at  and  ridiculed ;  and  how 
could  a  young  officer,    who   had  doiil)tless   little  studied 


330  NOTES     TO 

theological    subjects,   resist  the  contagion  of   scepticism? 

From  the  military  school  Buonaparte  passed  immedi- 
ately to  the  field  of  battle.  There,  deafened  by  the  noise 
of  war,  constantly  engaged  in  scenes  of  carnage,  urged 
onward  by  the  incentives  of  ambition,  his  heart  was  too 
full  of  visible  things  to  be  occupied  with  invisible  things. 
We  do  not  find  in  the  history  of  Napoleon  that,  during 
his  brilliant  campaigns  in  Italy,  he  paid  any  attention  to 
religious  subjects.  lie  showed  no  more  deference  to  tlie 
Pope  as  a  temporal  prince,  than  to  other  sovereigns.  He 
even  consented  to  the  abduction  of  Pius  VI.  who  died  on 
his  way,  overcome  with  fatigue  and  grief  Afterwards, 
when  he  went  to  Egypt,  he  tried  to  gain  the  Mahometans 
by  speaking  their  language,  and  some  at  the  time  said 
that  he  embraced  the  religion  of  the  False  Prophet.  But 
this  was  not  true;  the  conqueror  of  Egypt  only  made 
use  of  the  language  of  the  Koran. to  gain  a  more  easy 
triumph;  a  trick  of  state  too  often  employed  by  earthly 
rulers. 

Having  become  master  of  France,  and  being  clothed 
with  the  title  of  first  consul^  Buonaparte  made,  it  is  true,  a 
formal  agreement  with  the  Pope,  and  restored  the  exer- 
cise of  worship.  But  it  would  be  wrong  to  seek  in  such 
acts  a  proof  of  personal  piety.  He  merely  wished,  ac- 
cording to  all  appearance,  to  strengthen  his  dominioii. 
The  priests  were  only  his  agents^  charged  to  preach  to  the 
people,  in  the  cities  and  villages,  obedience  to  the  will 
of  Napoleon.     He  had  subsequently  violent-  quarrels  with 


THIRD     LECTURE.  33JU-v 


iJloO 


pope  Pius  Vir.  and  in  their  long  and  lamentable  discus- 
sions we  discover  nothing  in  the  Emperor,  which  shows 
a  man  piously  submissive  to  the  holy  See.  On  the  con- 
trary, Napoleon  had  formed  the  plan  of  making  the  Pope 
a  simple  Patriarchy  who  would  have  been  subjected  to 
his  authority. 

Continual  wars  filled  up  his  reign.  During  this  time,.^ 
religion  was  probably  far  removed  from  his  heart;  and  if 
it  sometimes  pressed  itself  upon  his  attention,  it  was  in  a 
transient  and  vague  manner.  It  has  been  remarked  that, 
in  this  part  of  his  career,  he  showed  often  a  kind  of  be- 
lief in  fatalism.  He  spoke  of  Id's  star^  to  those  who  sur- 
rounded him;  he  confided  in  this  star;  he  said,  after  a 
great  victory,  that  he  had  been  once  more  protected  by 
his  star.  When  he  met  with  a  reverse  he  laid  it  upon 
his  mysterious  star,  which  he  considered  as  presiding  over 
all  his  actions.  Strange  and  superstitious  notion,  bor- 
rowed from  the  astrology  of  the  dark  ages,  bat  explica- 
ble when  we  look  at  the  life  of  Napoleon. 

He  had  passed  through  such  a  variety  of  fortune,  had 
risen  from  so  humble  a  condition  to  so  lofty  an  emi- 
nence, he  had  so  oft^n  obtained  splendid  victories,  that 
he  must  believe — either  in  a  special  blessing  of  divine 
Providence — or  in  the  magic  influence  of  a  fitar.  But  as 
the  idea  of  a  Providence  was  not  in  his  thoughts,  he  luid 
adopted  the  notion  of  a  blind  destiny,  which,  under  the  . 
name  of  star,  controlled  all  his  actions. 

It  is  remarkable  that  almost  all  illustrious  men  have  , 


332  NOTES     TO 

< 

been  believers  in  fatalism.  Is  there  then,  in  the  chances 
jOf  battle,  in  the  uncertainty  of  victory,  in  the  triumphs 
achieved  by  force  of  arms,  some  undefinable  impression 
which  impels  men  to  regard  themselves  as  the  slaves  of 
an  unknown  and  irresistible  power? 
I  ; Terrible  disasters  drove  Kapoleon  from  his  throne;  I 
^vyill  not  relate  them  here :  the  world  has  resounded  with 
Itliem.  The  moment  came  then  for  the  illustrious  captain 
to  examine  himself,  to  listen  to  the  voice  of  conscience, 
tp.  feel  his  utter  weakness,  and  perhaps  to  turn  his  thoughts 
\jf>  .God.  His  old  friends  had  abandoned  him,  his  power 
was  gone,  the  din  with  which  ho  had  been  surrounded 
was  hushed.  He  was  alone  with  some  companions  of  his 
misfortune — he  was  more  wretched  than  can  be  told.  Was 
it  not  to  be  hoped  that  these  severe  trials  would  soften 
his  hard  heart,  and  lead  him  to  seek  in  the  religion  of 
Christ  the  only  consolations  adequate  to  his  adversity  ? 

Some  persons  thought  so.  An  eminent  Christian  of 
England,  the  Eev.  Dr.  David  Bogue,  sent  to  the  prisoner 
of  St.  Helena,  a  copy  of  his  Essay  on  the  divine  authority 
of  the  New  Testament,  Napoleon  read  the  little  work  with 
interest  and  satisfaction.  The  proofs  cited  by  the  author 
in  favor  of  the  divinity  of  Christianity  convinced  him, 
as  eye-witness?s  attest.  True,  this  was  not  enough  to 
make  him  a  Christian,  but  it  was  enough  to  awaken  in 
him  serious  reflections.  After  Napoleon's  death,  this  copy 
of  the  Essay  was  given  to  an  under  officer,  a  pious  man, 
who  had   taught   English   to   the  children   of  the   Empe- 


THIRD    LECTURE. 

ror's  companions.  When  the  regiment  returned  to  Eng- 
land, this  same  copy  was  given  back  to  Dr.  Bogue,  who 
received  it  with  much  emotion,  as  a  new  testimony  of 
the  favor  of  God  upon  his  book." 

What  these  eye-witnesses  do  attest  has  been  repeated- 
ly spread  before  the  world.  The  companions  of  his  exile 
were  far  from  being  religious  men.  His  friend,  General 
Bertrand,  was  an  avowed  unbeliever.  It  appears  their 
conversation  very  frequently  was  on  the  subject  of  re- 
ligion. On  one  occasion  Napoleon  was  speaking  of  the 
Divinity  of  Christ,  when  Bertrand  remarked, 

"I  cannot  conceive.  Sire,  how  a  great  man  like  you 
can  believe  that  the  Supreme  Being  ever  exhibited 
himself  to  men  under  a  human  form,  with  a  body, 
a  face,  mouth,  and  eyes.  Let  Jesus  be  whatever  you 
please — ^the  highest  intelligence,  the  purest  heart,  the 
most  profound  legislator,  and,  in  all  respects,  the  most 
singular  being  who  has  ever  existed.  I  grant  it.  Still 
he  was  simply  a  man,  who  taught  his  disciples,  and  de- 
luded credulous  people,  as  did  Orpheus,  Confucius,  Brah- 
ma. Jesus  caused  himself  to  be  adored,  because  his  pre- 
decessors, Isis  and  Osiris,  Jupiter  and  Juno,  had  proud- 
ly made  themselves  objects  of  worship.  The  ascendency 
of  Jesus  over  his  time,  was  like  the  ascendency  of  the 
gods  and  the  heroes  of  fable.  If  Jesus  has  impassioned 
and  attached  to  his  chariot  the  multitude — if  he  has  revo- 
lutionized  the  world — I  see  in  that,  only  the   power  of 

21 


334  NOTES     TO 

genius,  and  the  action  of  a  commanding  spirit,  which 
vanquishes  the  world,  as  so  many  conquerors  have  done 
—Alexander,  Caesar,  you,  Sire,  and  Mohammed,  with  a 
Bword." 

Napoleon  replied: 

"I  know  men,  and  I  tell  you  that  Jtsus  Christ  is 
not  a  man.  Superficial  minds  see  a  resemblance  between 
Christ  and  the  founders  of  empii*es  and  the  gods  of  oth- 

-er  religions.  That  resemblance  does  not  exist.  There  is 
between  Christianity  and  whatever  other  religion,  the  dis- 
tance of  infinity. 

"We  can  say  to  the  authors  of  every  other  religion, 
*You  are  neither  gods  nor  the  agents  of  the  Deity.  You 
are  but  missionaries  of  falsehood,  moulded  from  the  same 

yiQlay  with  the  rest  of  mortals.  You  are  made  with  all 
the  passions  and  vices  inseparable  from  them.  Your 
temples  and  your  priests  proclaim  your  origin.'  Such 
will  be  the  judgment,  the  cry  of  conscience,,  of  whoever 
examines  the  gods  and  the  temples  of  paganism. 

"Paganism  was  never  accepted,  as  truth,  by  the  wise 
men  of  Greece;  neither  by  Socrates,  Pythagoras,  Plato, 
Anaxagoras,  or  Pericles.     On  the  other  side,   the  lofiiest 

.  intellects,  since  the  advent  of  Christianity,  have  had  faith, 

•a  living  faith,  a  practical  faith,  in  the  mysteries  and  the 
doctrines  of  the  gospel ;  not  only  Bossuet  and  Fenelon,  who 
were  preachers,  but  Descartes  and  Newton,  Leibnitz  and 

->,  fPascal,  Corneille  and  Racine,  Charlemagne  and  Louis  Xiy. 
"Paganism  is  the  work  of  man.     One  can  here  read 


THIRD    LECTURE.  335 

but  our  imbecility.      What   do   these  gods,    so  boastfal, 
know  more  than  other  mortals?  these   legislators,  Greek 
lOr  Roman,  this  Numa,  this  Lycurgus,  these  priests  of  In- 
dia or  of  Memphis,  this  Confucius,  this  Mohammed?   Ab- 
solutely nothing.     They   have    made  a  perfect  chaos   of 
fmorals.     There  is  not  one  among  them  all  who  has  said* 
tanything  new  in  reference  to  our  future  destiny,  to  the 
soul,  to  the  essence  of  God,  to  the  creation.     Enter  the 
sanctuaries  of  paganism.     You  there  find  perfect  chaos,  a 
thousand  contradictions,  war  between  the   gods,  the   im- 
mobility  of  sculpture,    the   division    and  the  rending  of 
,ttnity,  the   parceling   out  of  the  divine   attributes   muti- 
lated or  denied   in   their  essence,   the  sophisms  of  igno- 
rance and  presumption,  polluted  f<§tes,  impurity  and  abom- 
'ination  adored;  all  sorts  of  corruption  festering  in  the  thicik 
"shades,  with  the   rotten    wood,  the   idol,  and   his   priest. 
Does  this  honor  God,  or  does  it  dishonor  him?    Are  these 
^religions  and  these  gods  to  be  compared  with  Christianity? 
"As  for  me,  I  say  no.     I    summon    entire  Olympus 
^  my  tribunal.     J.  judge  the  gods,  but  am  flir  from  pros- 
.trating  myself  before    their  vain  images.     The   gods,  the 
•legislators  of  India  and  of  China,  of  Rome  and  of  Ath- 
ens, have  nothing  which  can  overawe   me.     Not   that   1 
am  unjust  to   them!     No;  I  appreciate  them,   because   I 
know  their  value.     Undeniably  princes,   whose  existence 
is  fixed  in  the  memory  as  an  image  of  order  and  of  pow- 
er, as  the  ideal  of  force  and  beauty,  such  princes  were 
no  ordinary  men. 


■'::J 


,336  NOTES     TO 

"I  see  in  Lycurgus,  Numa,  and  Mohammed,  only  leg- 

-Jslators,  who,  having  the  first  rank  in  the  State,  have 
sought  the  best  sohition  of  the  social  problem ;  but  I  see 

viLothing  there   which   reveals  divinity.     They  themselves 

,have  never  raised  their  pretensions  so  high.  As  for  me, 
I  recognize  the  gods  and  these  great  men  as  beings  like 
myself  Tlicy  have  performed  a  lofty  part  in  their  times, 
as  I  have  done.     Nothing   announces   them   divine.     On 

^the  contrary,  there  are  numerous  resemblances  between 
them  and  myself;  foibles  and  errors  which  ally  them  to 
me  and  to  humanity. 

.  "It  is  not  so  with  Christ.  Every  thing  in  him  aston- 
ishes me.  His  spirit  overawes  me,  and  his  will  confounds 
me.  Between  him  and  whoever  else  in  the  world,  there 
is  no  possible  term  of  comparison.  He  is  truly  a  being 
by    himself.      His    ideas   and   his   sentiments,    the   truths 

.which  he  announces,  his  manner  of  convincing,  are  not 
explained  either  by  human  organization  or  by  the  nature 

^,of  things. 

.  ,  "  His  birth,  and  the  history  of  his  life ;  the  profundity 
of  his  doctrine,  which  grapples  the   mightiest   difficulties, 

^j^nd  which  is  of  those  difficulties  the  most  admirable  solu- 
tion ;  his  gospel,  his  apparition,  his  empire,  his  march 
across  the  ages  and  the  realms — every  thing  is,  for  me,  a 
prodigy,  a  mystery  insoluble,  which  plunges  me  into  a  rev- 
erie from  which  I  can  not  escape — ^a  mystery  which  is 
there  before  my  eyes — a  mystery  which  I  can  neither 
,deny  nor  explain.     Here  I  sec  nothing  human. 


THIRD     LECTURE. 


i^m 


'  "The  nearer  I  approach,  the  more  carefully  I  examine, 
every  thing  is  above  me — every  thing  remains  grand,  if 
a  grandeur  which  overpowers.  His  rclig-ion  is  a  rovela* 
tion  from  an  intelligence  which  ccrtiinly  is  not  that  6i 
man.  There  is  there  a  profound  originality,  which  has 
created  a  series  of  words  and  of  maxims  before  unknown, 
Jesus  borrowed  nothing  from  our  sciences.  One  can  ab- 
solutely find  nowhere,  but  in  him  alone,  the  imitation  or 
the  example  of  his  life.  He  is  not  a  philosopher,  since 
he  advances  by  miracles,  and  from  the  commencement 
his  disciples  worshiped  him.  He  persuades  them  far  more 
by  an  appeal  to  the  heart  than  by  any  display  of  method 
and  of  logic.  Neither  did  he  impose  upon  them  any  pre- 
liminary studies,  or  any  knowledge  of  letters.  All  his 
religion  consists  in  believing. 

"In  fiict,  the  sciences  and  philosophy  avail  nothing  for 
salvation;  and  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  reveal  tlie 
mysteries  of  heaven  and  the  laws  of  the  spirit.  Also,  he 
has  nothing  to  do  but  with  the  soul,  and  to  that  alone  he 
brings  his  gospel.  The  soul  is  sufficient  for  him,  as  he 
is  sufficient  for  the  soul.  Before  him,  the  soul  was  noth- 
ing. Matter  and  time  were  the  masters  of  the  world.  At 
his  voice  every  thing  returns  to  order.  Science  and  phi- 
losophy become  secondary.  The  soul  has  re-conquered  its 
sovereignty.  All  the  scholastic  scaffolding  falls,  as  an  edi- 
fice ruined,  before  one  single  word — Faith. 

"What  a  master  and  what   a  word,  which  can  effect 
such  a  revolution!    "With  what  authority  does  he  teack 


saSs 


NOTES    TO 


lAcn  to  pray!    He  imposes  his  belief.     And  no  one,  thus' 
far,'  has  been  able  to   contradict  him ;   first,  because   the' 
gospel  contains  the  purest  moralitj,  and  also  becausa  the" 
doctrine  which  it  contains  of  obscui-ity,  is  only  the  pro- 
clamation and  the  truth   of  that  which  exists  wht-re   no 
eye  can   see  and  no   reason  can   penetrate.     Who   is   the' 
iiiscnsate  who  will   say  N'o  to   the   intrepid  voyager  who 
rtiouiits  the  marvels  of  tlic  icy  peaks  which  he  alone  has 
\ixd  the  boldness  to  visit?    Christ  is  that  bold  voyager/' 
(3tid  can  doubtless  remain  incredulous.    But  no  one   caii' 
venture  to  say,  It  is  not  so. 
'^  ""Moreover^  consult  the  pliilosophers  upon  those  mys-' 
tfirious  questions  which  relate  to  the  essence  of  man  and' 
the  essence  of  religion.     What  is  their  response?    Where 
\^  the  man  of  good  sense  who  has  ever  learned  any  thing' 
from  the  system  of  metaphysics,  ancient  or  modern,  which 
ii^'iiot  truly  a  vain  and   pompous   ideology,  without   any 
corihection  with  our  domestic  life,  with  oiir  passions?    Un-' 
qiiestionably,  .with  skiJI  in  thinking,  one  can  seize  the  key 
of  the  philosophy  of  Socrates  and  Plato.     But  to  do  this, 
it  is  necessary  to  be  a  metaphysician;  and  moreover,  with 
years  of  study,   one    must   possess  special    aptitude.     Bui' 
good  sense   alone,   tlio  heart,   an    honest    spirit,  are  suflS- 
ci^nt  to  comprehend  t^hristianity. 

"The   Christian   religion  is   neither  ideology  nor   me- 
taiphysics,  but  a  practical  rule,  which   directs  the  action's' 
of  man,  corrects  him,  counsels  him,  and  assists  him  in  all 
his    conduct.    Tlie    Bible    contains   a  complete  series  of 


THIRD     LECTURE.  339 

facts  and  of  historical  men,  to  explain  time  and  eternitjr, 
8uch  as  no  other  religion  has  to  offer.  If  this  is  not  the 
true  religion,  one  is  very  excusable  in  being  deceived ;  for 
everything  in  it  is  grand  and  worthy  of  God.  I  search 
in  vain  in  history  to  find  the  similar  to  Jesus  Christ,  or 
anything  which  can  approach  the  gospel.  Neither  history, 
nor  humanity,  nor  the  ages,  nor  nature  offer  me  anything 
with  which  I  am  able  to  compare  it  or  to  explain  it. 
Here  everything  is  extraordinary.  The  more  I  consider; 
the  gospel,  the  more  I  am  assured  that  there  is  nothing 
there  which  is  not  beyond  the  march  of  events,  and, above 
the  human  mind.  Even  the  impious  themselves  have 
never  dared  to  deny  the  sublimity  of  the  gospel,  which 
inspires  them  with  a  sort  of  compulsory  veneration.  What, 
happiness  that  book  procures  for  those  who  believe  it! 
What  marvels  those  admire  there  who  reflect  upon  it  I 
"All  the  words  there  are  imbedded  and  joined  one 
upon  another,  like  the  stones  of  an  edifice.  The.  spirit 
which  binds  these  words  together  is  a  divine  cement^, which, 
now  reveals  the  sense,  and  again  vails  it  from.th^  mind.. 
Each  phrase  has  a  sense  complete,  which  traces  the  per- 
fection of  unity  and  the  profundity  of  the  whole.  Book^ 
unique,  where  the  mind  finds  a  moral  beauty  before  un- 
known, and  an  idea  of  the  Supreme,  superior  even  to  that 
which  creation  suggests.     Who,  but  God,  could   produce 


that  type,  that  idea  of  perfection,  equally  exclusive  and  ^ 
original?  ^ 

"Christ,  having  but  a  few  weak  disciples,  was  con- 


340  NOTES     TO 

demned  to  death.  He  died  the  object  of  the  Avrath  of  the 
Jewish  priests,  and  of  the  contempt  of  the  nation,  and 
abandoned  and  denied  by  his  own  disciples. 

"They  are  about  to  take  me,  and  to  crucify  me,  said 
he.  I  shall  be  abandoned  of  all  the  world.  My  chief 
disciple  will  deny  me  at  the  commencement  of  my  pun- 
ishment. I  shall  be  left  to  the  wicked.  But  then,  divine 
justice  being  satisfied,  original  sin  being  expiated  by  my 
sufferings,  the  bond  of  man  to  God  will  be  renewed,  and 
my  death  will  be  the  life  of  my  disciples.  Then  they 
will  be  more  strong  without  me  than  Avith  me;  for  they 
will  see  me  rise  again.  I  shall  ascend  to  the. skies;  and 
I  shall  send  to  them,  from  heaven,  a  Spirit  who  will  in- 
struct them.  The  Spirit  of  the  cross  will  enable  them  to 
understand  my  gospel.  In  fine,  they  will  believe  it;  they 
will  preach  it;  and  they  will  convert  the  world. 

"And  this  strange  promise,  so  aptly  called  by  Paul 
the  ^foolishness  of  the  cross,"  this  prediction  of  one  mise- 
rably crucified,  is  literally  accomplished.  And  the  mode 
of  the  accomplishment  is  perhaps  more  prodigious  than 
the  promise. 

"It  is  not  a  day,  nor  a  battle  which  has  decided  it. 
Is  it  the  lifetime  of  a  man?  No!  It  is  a  war,  a  long 
combat  of  three  hundred  years,  commenced  by  the  apos- 
tles and  continued  by  their  successors  and  by  succeeding 
generations  of  Christians.  In  this  conflict  all  the  kings 
and  all  the  forces  of  the  earth  wer^  arrayed  on  one  side. 
Upon  the  other  I  see  no  army,  but  a  mysterious  energy; 


o,»  o 


THIRD    1.ECTURE.  S4T 

individuals  scattered  lierc  and  there,  in  all  parts  of  the 
globe,  having  no  other  rallying  sign  than  a  common  faitn 
in  the  mysteries  of  the  cro^s. 

"What  a  mysterious  symbol!  the  instrument  of  the 
punishment  of  the  Man-God.  His  disciples  were  armed 
with  it.  'The  Christ,'  they  said,  'God  has  died  for  th^ 
salvation  of  men.'  What  a  strife,  what  a  tempest  thes^ 
simple  words  have  raised  around  the  humble  standard  oi 
the  punishment  of  the  Man-God!  On  the  one  side,  we 
see  rage  and  all  the  furies  of  hatred  and  violence.  On 
the  other,  there  is  gentleness,  moral  courage,  inflnit3  resig- 
nation. For  three  hundred  years  spirit  struggled  against 
the  brutality  of  sense,  conscience  against  despotism,  the 
soul  against  the  body,  virtue  against  all  the  vices.  Tlie' 
blood  of  Christians  flowed  in  torrents.  They  died  kissing 
the  hand  which  slew  them.  The  soul  alone  protested, 
while  the  body  surrendered  itself  to  all  tortures.  Every- 
where  Christians  fell,    and    everywhere  they  triumphed. 

"You  speak  of  Coesar,  of  Alexander;  of  their  conquests,' 
and  of  the  enthusiasm  which  they  enkindled  in  the  hearts 
of  their  soldiers.  But  can  you  conceive  of  a  dead  man 
making  conquests,  with  an  army  faithful  and  entirely  de- 
voted to  his  memory.  -  My  armies  have  forgotten  me,  even 
while  living,  as  the  Carthagenian  army  forgot  Hannibal. 
Such  is  our  power!  A  single  battle  lost  crushes  us,  ana 
adversity  scatters  our  friends.  ^^ 

"Can  you  conceive  of  Coesar  as  the  eternal  emperor' 
of  the  Roman  senate,  and  from  the  depths  of  his  mauso- 


^2  NOTES    TO 

leum  governing  tlie  empire,  watching  over  the  destinies 
of  Rome?  Such  i^  the  history  of  the  invasion  and  con- 
quest of  the  world  by  Christianity.  Such  is  the  power 
of  the  God  of  the  Christians ;  and  such  is  the  perpetual 
miracle  of  the  ^progress  of  the  faith  and  of  the  govern- 
ment of  His  Church.  Nations  pass  away,  thrones  <irum- 
ble,  but  the  church  remains.  What  is  then  the  power 
which  has  protected  this  church,  thus  assailed  by  the  fu- 
rious billows  of  rage  and  the  hostility  of  ages?  Whose 
is  the  arm  which,  for  eighteen  hundred  years,  has  pro- 
tected the  church  from  so  many  storms  which  have  threat- 
ened to  engulf  it? 

"Alexander,  Csesar,  Charlemagne,  and  myself  found- 
ed empires.  But  upon  what  did  we  rest  the  creations 
of  our  genius?  Upon  force.  Jesus  Christ  alone  founded 
his  empire  upon  love:  and  at  this  hour  millions  of  men 
would  die  for  him. 

"  In  every  other  existence  but  that  of  Christ,  how 
many  imperfections?  Where  is  the  character  wliich  has 
not  yielded,  vanquished  by  obstacles?  Where  is  the  in- 
dividual who  has  never  been  governed  by  circumstances 
or  places,  who  has  never  succumbed  to  the  influence  of 
the  times,  who  has  never  compounded  with  any  customs 
or  passions?  From  the  first  day  to  the  last  he  is  the 
same,  always  the  same:  majestic  and  simple,  infinitely  firm 
and  infinitely  gentle. 

"Truth  should  embrace^the  universe.  Such  is  Chris- 
tianity, the  only  religion  which  destroys   sectional  preju- 


THIRD     LECTURE.  343 

g,dice,  the    only  one    which   proclaims   the  unity  and   the 

absolute    brotherhood    of  the  whole    human   family,    the 

ij^only   one   which    is    purely  spiritual;   in    fine,    the  only 

j  one  which  assigns  to  all,  without  distinction,  for  a  true 

country,  the  bosom  of  the  Creator,  God.     Christ  proved 

.that  he  was  the  son  of  the.  Eternal,  by  his  disregard  of 

ytime.    All  his  doctrines  signify  only  one  and  the  same 

;  thing,  Ek-rnity. 

"It  is  true  that  Christ  proposes  to  our  faith  a  series 

of  mysteries.     He  commands,   with    authoritj^,    that    we 

,j  should  believe  them,  giving  no  other  rea.son   than   those 

tremendous   "Words,  '  /  am  Qod^    He   declares  it.     What 

an  abyss  he  creates,  by  that  declaration,  between  himself 

J  and  all  the  fabricators  of  religion.     What  audacity,  what 

J.  sacrilege,  what  blasphemy,   if  it  were   not  true!     I   say 

f  more;  the  universal  triumph  of  an  affirmation  of  that  kind, 

if  the  triumph  were  not  really  that  of  God  himself,  would 

^  be  a  plausible  excuse,  and  the  proof  of  atheism. 

"Moreover,  in  propounding  mysteries  Christ  is  harmo- 
nious with  nature,  which  is  profoundly  mysterious.     From 
J.  whence  do  I  come?   whither  do  I  go?   who  am  I?    Hu- 
1  man  life  is  a  mystery  in  its  origin,  its  organization,  and 
'■:  ■  its  end.    In  man  and  out  of  man,  in  nature,  every  thing 
c  is  mysterious.     And  can  one  wish   that  religion  should 
;  not  be  mysterious?    The  creation  and  the  destiny  of  the 
world  are  an  unfathomable  abyss,  as  also  is  the  creation 
and  the  destiny  of  each  individual.     Christianity  at  least 
does  not  evade    these   great    questions.     It    meets   them 


S44 


NOTES     TO 


J}ol(lly.     And   our  doctrines  are   a   solution   of  them  for 
every  one  who  believes. 

"The  gospel  possesses  a  secret  virtue,  a  mysterious 
efficacy,  a  warmth  which  penetrates  and  soothes  the  heart. 
Pne  finds,  in  meditating  upon  it,  that  which  one  experi- 
ences in  contemplating  the  heavens.  The  gospel  is  not 
a  book;  it  is  a  living  being,  with  an  action,  a  power, 
which  invades  every  thing  which  opposes  its  extension. 
Behold  it  upon  this  table,  this  book  surpassing  all  others, 
(here  the  Emperor  deferentially'  placed  his  hand  upon  it,) 
I  never  omit  to  read  it,  and  every  day  with  the  same 
pleasure. 

"Nowhere  is  to  be  found  such  a  series  of  beautiful 
ideas,  admirable  moral  maxims,  which  pass  before  us  like> 
the  battalions  of  a  celestial  army,  and  which  produce  in 
our  soul  the  same  emotion  which  one  experiences  in  con-, 
templating  the  infinite  expanse  of  the  skies,  resplendent 
in  a  summer's  night,  with  all  the  brilliance  of  the  stars. 
Not  only  is  our  mind  absorbed,  it  is  controlled,  and  the! 
soul  can  never  go  astray  with  this  book  for  its  guide.: 
Once  master  of  our  spirit,-  the  faithful  gospel  loves  us. 
God  even  is  our  friend,  our  father,  and  truly  our  God, 
The  mother  has  no  oreater  care  for  the  infant  whom  she 


nurses. 


"What  a  proof  of  the  divinity  of  Christ!  With  an 
empire  so  absolute,  he  has  but  one  single  end,  the  spiri- 
tual melioration  of  individuals,  the  purity  of  conscience, 
the  union  to  that  which  is  true,  the  holiness  of  the  soul. 


THIRD     LECTURE.  ^  345 

"Christ  speaks,  and  at  once  generations  become  liis  bj 
stricter,  closer  ties  than  those  of  blood ;  by  the  most  sa- 
cred, the  most  indissoluble  of  all  unions.  He  lights  up  the 
flame  of  a  love  which  consumes  self-love,  which  prevails 
Over  every  other  love.  The  'founders  of  other  religions 
never  conceived  of  this  inystical  love,,  which  is  the  essence 
of  Christianity,  and  is  beautifully  called  charity.  In  every 
attempt  to  effect  this  thing,  namely,  to  make  himself  beloved, 
man  deeply  feels  his  own  impotence.  So  that  Christ's 
greatest  miracle  undoubtedly  is,  the  reign  of  charity. 

"I  have  so  inspired  multitudes  that  they  would  die 
for  me.  God  forbid  that  I  should  form  any  comparison 
between  the  enthusiasm  of  the  soldier  and  Christian  cha- 
rity, which  are  as  unlike  as  their  cause. 

"But,  after  all,  my  presence  was  necessary;  the  light- 
ning of  my  eye,  my  voice,  a  word  from  me;  then  the  sa- 
cred fire  was  kindled  in  their  hearts.  I  do  indeed  possess 
the  secret  of  this  magical  power,  which  lifts  the  soul,  but 
I  could  never  impart  it  to  any  one.  None  of  my  gene- 
rals ever  Icamt  it  from  me.  Kor  have  I  the  means  of 
perpetuating  my  name  and  love  for  me  in  the  hearts  of 
men,  and  to  effect  these  things  without  physical  means. 

"Now  that  I  am  at  St.  Helena;  now  that  I  am  alone 
chained  upon  this  rock,  who  fights  and  wins  empires  for 
me?  who  are  the  courtiers  of  my  misfortune ?  who  thinks 
of  me?  who  makes  efforts  for  me  in  Earopc?  where  are 
my  friends?  Yes,  two  or  three,  whom  your  fidelity  im- 
mortalizes, you  share,  you  console  my  exile." 


346 


NOTES     TO 


Here  the  voice  of  the  Emperor  trembled  with  emotion, 
and  for  a  moment  he  was  silent.     He  then  continued:       ' 

"Yes,  our   life  once   shone  with  all   the   brilliance   of 
the  diadem  and  the  throne;   and  yours,  Bertrand,  retlect- 
ed  that  splendor,  as   the   dome  of  the  Invalides,  gilt  by' 
us,  reflects  the  rays  of  the  sun.     But  disasters  came ;  the  • 
gold  gradually  became  dim.     The  rain  of  misfortune  and  ■ 
outrage  with  which   I   am   daily  deluged  has  eff.iced   all 
the  brightness.     We  are  mere  lead  now,  General  Bertrand, 
and  soon  I  shall  be  in  my  grave. 

"Such  is  the  fate  of  great  men!  So  it  was  with  CaB-' 
sar  and  Alexander.  And  I,  too,  am  forgotten.  And  the' 
name  of  a  conqueror  and  an  emperor  is  a  college  theme!' 
Our  exploits  are  tasks  given  to  pupils  by  their  tutor,  who^ 
sit  in  judgment  upon  us,  awarding  us  censure  or  praise. 
And  mark  what  is  soon  to  become  of  me;  assassinated  by' 
the  English  oligarchy,  I  die  before  my  time;  and  my  dead 
body,  too,  must  return  to  the  earth,  to  become  fo(>d  for' 
worms.  Behold  the  destin}^,  near  at  hand,  of  him  who' 
has  been  called  the  great  Napoleon.  "What  an  abyss  be- 
tween my  deep  misery  and  the  eternal  reign  of  Christ, 
which  is  proclaimed,  loved,  adored,  and  which  is  extend- 
ing over  all  the  earth.  Is  this  to  die?  Is  it  not  rather 
to  live?     The  death  of  Christ!     It  is  the  death  of  God.": 

For  a  moment  the  Emperor  was  silent.  As  General 
Bertrand  made  no  reply,  he  solemnly  added,  "If  you  do 
not  perceive  that  Jesus  Christ  is  God,  veiy  well,  then  I 
did  wrong  to  make  you  a  general." 


THIRD     LECTURE.  347 

This  IS  in  many  respects  a  remarkable  confession  of 
faith;  and  because  it  is  so  remarkable,  I  have  qLUoted  it 
at  such  length.  It  contains  internal  proofs  of  its  autben* 
ticity  which  cannot  well  be  questioned.  From  beginning 
to  end,  it  bears  the  image  of  tlie  man  himself;  and  yet 
in  s.'veral  of  the  views  it  contains,  it  is  so  closely  allied 
to  the  argument  in  Dr.  Boguj's  book,  that  we  arc  led  to 
see  how  carefully  Napoleon  must  have  studied  the  volume.. 

I  have  made  the  quotation  from  the  Rev.  Mr.  Abbott's 
Lifj  of  Napoleon.  No  one  who  is  acquainted  with  that 
writer,  will  doubt  his  fidelity.  His  admiration  of  Napo- 
leon's character  may  be  too  enthusiastic,  and  his  inferences 
at  tim^s  may  not  be  legitimately  drawn.  These  are  points 
pn  which  there  will  always  be  a  difference  of  opinion  re- 
specting the  Alexanders,  the  Ciesars,  and  the  Napoleons 
who  have  appeared  in  our  world.  But  Mr.  Abbott  should 
be  fvUowed  full  credit  for  the  patient  labor  with  which 
he  has  investigated  facts,  and  for  the  lucid  and  happy 
manner  in  which  he  has  wrought  them  into  history. 

Page  123. 

In  giving  the  character  of  Lord  Bacon,  I  have  not 
been  unmindful  of  the  great  blot  that  rests  on  the  na:ne 
of  this  great  man.  Although  it  was  only  in  virtue  of 
Poetic  License  that  Pope  could  be  justified  in  calling  him 

The  wisest,  brii^htest,  meanest  of  mankind; 


348        NOTES  TO  THIRD  LECTURE. 

his  crime  as  a  Judge  cannot  be  excused  because  it  was 
one  of  the  vices  so  prevalent  in  his  day.  Nothing  is 
gaiiied  to  the  cause  of  religion  by  defending  of  ignoring 
the  faults  of  its  advocates.  It  is  not  in  this  spirit  that 
the  Bible  describes  its  illustrious  characters.  As  if  to 
stain  the  pride  of  human  glory  by  their  fall,  strong  men 
are  often  assailed  and  overcome  by  strong  temptations ; 
and  with  this  plea  on  their  behalf,  we  should  at  least  be 
&Utious  in  pronouncing  judgment  upon  those  who  m^y 
*liave'  startled  a  whole  world  by  their  signal  departure 
from*  rectitude. 

■  ~  Bfe'tKis  as  it  may  in  Bacon's  case,  it  does  not  destroy 
the  value  of  his  testimony  to  the  truth  of  Christianit}'-  as 
a'  subject  of  intellectual  investigation.  Even  his  worst 
enemies  could  not  deny  him  the  distinction  of  a  great 
mmd;  and  when  he  brought  it  to  bear  on  the  inspiration 
and  excellence  of  the  Bible,  we  see  what  was  his  delib- 
erate  conclusion. 


M} 

,-fteiAw 


ismm  m  mwmsia  m^wm. 


Page  178. 

I  am  aware  of  the  discredit  that  some  of  Voltaire's 
friends  have  endeavored  to  cast  upon  the  physician  who 
attended  the  dying  man.  He  has  been  called  a  quack. 
Would  they  have  us  believe  that  Voltaire's  life  was  con- 
sidered of  so  little  value,  that  it  was  committed  to  the 
care  of  a  quack  doctor?  The  truth  is,  Paris  was  consid- 
ered at  the  time,  as  having  no  better  physician  in  the 
whole  city  than  the  man  who  was  called  to  attend  Vol- 
taire in  his  last  illness,  and  nothing  was  heard  of  his  be- 
ing a  quack,  till  the  world  heard  from  him  the  frightful 
story  of  Voltaire's  remorse  when  approaching  eternity. 

The  whole  account  of  Voltaire's  death  contained  in 
the  Lecture,  is  taken  chiefly  from  the  Abb^  Barruel's 
"Anti-Christian  Conspiracy;"  and  as  it  has  been  the 
fashion  in  certain  quarters  to  question  his  authority,  I 
here  make  an  extract  from  his  work,  which  may  enable 
us  to  judge  how  far  he  had  evidence  to  bear  him  out 
in  what  he  has  stated. 

Having  alluded  to  Voltaire's    public  triumph  in  hia 

last  visit  to  Paris,  and  to  the  sudden  hemorrhage  which 

22 


jS^O  .    .,,.,   j^IOTES    TO 

threatened  his  life,  conscious  that  he  was  about  to  describe 

•I  ■  ■ 

a  scene  from  which  many  would  be  inclined  to  turn  away 
with  horror,  he  says, 

"Here  let  not  the  historian  fear  exaggeration.  Rage, 
remorse,  roproach  and  blasphemy,  all,  accompany  and 
characterize  the  long  agony  of  the  dying  Atheist.  This 
death,  the  most  terrible  that  is  ever  recorded  to  havp 
stricken  the  impious  man,  will  not  bo  denied  by  his  com- 
^panions  of  impiety;  their  siknce,  however  much  they 
may  wish  to  deny  it,  is  the  least  of  those  corroborative 
ppopfe  which  could  be  adduced.  Not  one  of  the  Sophia- 
ters  has  ever  dared  to  mention  any  sign  given,  of  reso- 
lution or  tranquility,  by  this  premier  chief,  during  thjB 
space  of  three  months,  which  elapsed  from  the  time  he 
was  crowned  at  the  theatre,  until  his  decease.  Such  a 
silence  expresses  how  great  their  humiliation  was  in  his 
death. 

"It  was  on  his  return  from  the  theatre,  and  in  the 
midst  of  the  toils  he  was  resuming  in  order  to  acquire 
fresh  applause,  when  Voltaire  wjis  warned    that  the  long 

,Career  -of  his  impiety  was  drawing  to  an  end. 
r 

"In  spite  of  all  the  Sophisters  flocking  around  him  in 

,the  first  days  of  his  illness,  he  gave  signs  of  wishing  to 
return  to  the  God  he  had  so  often  blasphemed.    He  calls 

^fpy  the  priests  who  ministered  to  Him  whom  he  had  sworn 
to  crush^  under  the  appellation  of  the  wretch.  His  danger 
increasing,  he  wrote  the  following  note  to  tlie  Abbd  Gaul- 
tier.    'You  had  promised  me.  Sir,  to  come  and  hear  me. 


»ii 


FOURTH     LECTURE.  351 

I  entreat  you  would  take  the  trouble  of  calling  as  soon 
as  possible.  Signed,  VoLTAlRte.*'^* 

Paria,  the  26th  Feb.  1778."  '  ^' 

A  few  days  after,  he  wrote  the  following  declaration, 
in  presence  of  the  same  Abbe  Gaultier,  the  Abb^  Mignot 
and  the  Marquis  de  Villevieille,  copied  from  the  minutes 
deposited  with  Mr.  Momet,  Notary  at  Paris. 
-'  '*'*I  the  underwritten,  declare  that  for  these  four  days 
^ast,  having  been  afflicted  with  a  vomiting  of  blood,  At 
the  age  of  eighty-four,  and  not  having  been  able  to  drag 
myself  to  the  church,  the  Rev.  the  Rector  of  St.  Sulpice, 
having  been  pleased  to  add  to  his  good  works  that  of 
sending  to  me  the  Abb6  Gaultier,  a  priest;  I  confessed 
to  him,  and  if  it  pleases  God  to  dispose  of  me,  I  die  iii 
'the  Holy  Catholic  Church,  in  which  I  was  born;  hoping 
that  the  divine  mercy  will  deign  to  pardon  all  my  faults ; 
and  if  ever  I  have  scandalized  the  Church,,  I  ask  pardon 
of  God  and  of  the  Church.  2hd  March,  1778.  Signed, 
Voltaire:  in  presence  of  the  Abbd  Mignot  my  nephew, 
and  the  Marquis  de  Villevieille  my  friend.' 

"  After  the  two  witnesses  had  signed  this  declaratibii, 
Voltaire  added  these  words,  copied  from  the  same  min- 
utes: *The  Abbe  Gaultier,  my  confessor,  having  apprised 
me  that  it  was  said  among  a  certain  set  of  people,  I 
fihould  protest  against  every  thing  I  did  at  my  death; 
T  declare  I  never  made  such  a  speech,  and  that  it  is  an 
old  jest  attributed,  long  since,  to  many  of  the  learned, 
more  enlightened  than  I  am.'        *        *        * 


gj552  JfOTES     TO 

*' Voltaire  had  permitted  this  declaration  to  be  carried 

to  the  Kector  of  St.   Sulpice,  and  to  the  Archbishop   of 

Paris,  to  know  whether,  .ij^jwf^uld  be  sufficient.  When 
,  the  Abbe  Gaul  tier  returned  with  the  answer,  it  was  jm- 
j, possible  for  him  to  gain  admittance  to  the   patient,  -lihe 

iconspirators  had  strained  every  nerve  to  hinder  the  chief 
J.  froni  consummating  his  recantation,  and  every  avenue  was 
^^hut  ito  the  priest  which  Voltaire  himself  had  sent  for. 
i.  The  demons  haunted  every  accesa;   but  r^ge  (Succeeds  ^o 

fury,  and  fury  to  rage  again  daring  the  remainder  of  his 
,flife.  Then  it  was  that  D'Alembert,  Diderot,  and  about 
-,  twenty  other  of  the  conspirators,  who  had  beset  his  apart- 
,  paent,  never  approached  him,  but  to  witness  their  own  j^- 

.nominy ;    and  \  often  he   would   curse   them   and  exclaim, 

^Retire,  it  is  you  that  have  brought  me  to  my  present 
., state;  begone,  I  could  have  done  without  you  all,   but 

jou ,  could  not  exist  without  me,  and  what   a  wretched 

glory  have  you  procured  me.' 

*'Then  would  succeed  the  horrid  remembrance   of  his 

^  conspiracy ;  they  could  hear  him,  the  prey  of  anguish  and 

^  dread,  alternately  supplicating  or  blaspheming  that  God 

whom  he  had  conspired  against,  and  in  plaintive  accents 
,  would  he   cry  out,    '  Oh  Christ !   Oh  Jesus  Christ  I'   and 

then  complain  that  he  was  abandoned  by  God  and  man. 

The  hand  which  had  traced  in  ancient  writ  the  sentence 
.of  an! impious  revelling  king,  seemed  to  trace  before  his 
«eyes  Cricsh  then,  do  crush  the  wretch.  In  vain  he  turned 
'his  head  away,  the  time  was  coming  apace  when  he  W/^s 


FOURTH     LEdTURK. 


to  appear  before  tho  tribunal  of  liifehd' had 'blasphemed; 
and  his  physicians,  particularly  Mr.  Tronchin,  calling  ^n 
''to  administer  relief  thunderstruck  retires,  declaring  the 
death  of  the  impious  man  to  be  terrible  indeed.  The 
pride  of  the  conspirators' would  willingly  have  suppressed 
these  declarations,  but  it  was  in  vain;  the  Mareschal  de 
Richelieu  flies  from  the  bedside,  declaring  it  to  be  a  sight 
too  terrible  to  be  sustained;  and  Mr.  Tronchin,  that  the 
furies  of  Orestes  could  give  but  a  faint  idea  of  those  ^  of 
Voltaire.  '^ 

"Thus  died,  on  the  80th  of  May,  1778,  rather  wo^n 
out  by  his  own  fury  than  by  the  weight  of  years,  tfie 
most  unrelenting  conspirator  against  Christianity,  that  htis 
been  seen  since  the  time  of  the  Apostles.  His  persecutioh, 
longer  and  more  perfidious  than  those  of  Nero  or  Die*, 
clctian  had  yet  only  produced  apostates,  but  they  were 
more   numerous   than   the   martyrs   made    in  the  former 

persecutions."  .  ^     ^ 

Hid  I. 

It  should  be  remembered  that  this,  or  a  similar  ac- 
count, was  published  while  the  events  themselves  were 
"yet  fresh  in  the  recollection  of  the  public,  and Avhile  men 
or  their  intimate  friends  were  yet  living,  who  are  referred 
to  by  name  as  witnesses  of  what  is  told.  Written  docu- 
ments also,  with  day  and  date,  are  quoted  and  appealed 
to,  ill  proof  of  the  narrative.  "  Different  accounts,"  it '  is 
said,  "  are  given  of  Voltaire's  death."  Where  is  the  dif- 
ferent account  that  is  supported  by  evidence  like  this? 


854  NOTES     TO 

Ij'f  tnJTTnTrroo  on 

Page    202. 

^/,;.:.  '  '/  ii 

'^'iALlthougli  in  the  memorable  deaths  of  Christians  enii^- ' 
migrated  in  this   Lectnrfe,  I  have  generally  confined  my- 
self to  those  who  have  not    only  avowed  their  faith  itl^ 
Christianity,,  but  have  distinguished  themselves  in  defend-'' 
ing  atid  teaching  its  doctrines;  I  will  not  deny  myself  the 
gpatification  of  referring  in  this  Connection  to  the  last  hours 
of'  Baniel  Webster.      His    testimony  to  the   inestimablei^ 
vvOt^h  of  the  Bible,  was  freely  and  repeatedly  given  dur-  ' 
ing  his  life,  and  his  death  was  remarkable  for  a  compo-  • 
sm-e  and  a  trustful   humility  of  spirit,  that  rendered  the 
scene  very  impressive   and  touching.     I  take   the  follow- 
ing description  of  it  from  a  sermon  preached  by  the  Kev. 
C.    M.   Butler,   in   whose  church   Mr.    Webster   had   for 
years  been  a  worshipper.     It  was  Mr.  Webster^s  happi- 
ness, to  be  attended  in  his  last  illness  by  a  pious  phy- 
sician, who  at  Mr.  Butler^s  request  furnished  the  incidents 
which  -were  embodied  in  the  discourse. 

"I  was  assured,"  said  Dr.  Jeffries,  "early  in  the  sick- 
ness of  Mr.  Webster,  that  he  understood  the  danger  of 
his  situation.  As  the  disease  progressed,  he  knew  that  it 
would  be  soon  fatal;  and  he  was  the  first  to  &x  upon  a 
definite  time  when  he  should  die.  But  he  was  not  dis- 
posed to  speak  of  it,  as  I  think,  because  he  knew  it 
would  be  distressing  to  his  friends.  He  acted  on  this 
knowledge  from  the  earliest  period  of  my  attendance : 
ev  erv -thinjTr  he  did  had  a  reference  to  this  result.     I  had 


FOURTH     LECTURE.  Si^^ 

no  conversation  with  him  on  the  subject  of  his  death  until 
it  was  near,  and  but  little  on  serious  subjects;  that  little, 
however,   showed   distinctly  his  views  on  this  important 
subject ;  and,  together  with  what  I  otherwise  hejird  and  , 
observed,    served   to   illustrate  satisfactorily  his  religious  , 
character.  ,  j 

,    "The  few  facts  I  have  to  present  to  you  are  as  follows:,  i 
,   "On  leaving  Mr.  Webster  for  the  night  at  half  pasti:^ 
eleven,  on  Saturday,  October  16,  1852,  I  asked  him  if  Bx) 
should  repeat   to  him   a  hymn  at  parting,   to  n^^Q^'^ 
gave  a  ready  assent ;  when  I  repeated  the  hymn,  [  .■    ■       ] 

There   is  a  fountain  filled  with  blood, 

Drawn  from  EmmanuePs  veins; 
And  sinners,  plunged  beneath  that  flood^^^  '■•''^^'  o*** 

Lose  all  their  guilty  stains.  •    •*'^    *^ 


'V'i 


The  dying  thief  rejoiced  to  see 

•  That  fountain  in  his  day ; 
And  there  may  I,  as  vile  as  he. 
Wash  all  my  sins  away. 

Dear  dying  Lamb,  thy  precious  blood 

Shall  never  lose  its  power 
Till  all  the  ransomed  Church  of  God  .   r » 

Be  saved  to  sin  no  more.  . ,     ♦•   »,  «^ 

E'er  since  by  faith,  I  saw  the  stream,  '    ' 

Thy  flowing  wounds  supply, 
Redeeming  love  has  been  my  theme, 

And  shall  be  till  I  die. 


•M  NOTES    TO 

ji  ..  V  '  '■.•  Then  in  a  nobler,  sweeter,  song, 
ZxiA  Jiiioil  '/]  I'll  sing  thy  power  to  save; 
-qL  lo  Ir>rV  ?^hea  this  poor  lisping,  stammering  tongue, 

Lies  silent  in  the  grave.  ai/a 

'^^  "He  gave  very  serious  attention  to  the  recital,  and  at 
the  close  he  said,  '  Amen,  amen,  even  so  come  Lord  Jesus.' 
This  was  uttered  with  great  solemnity.  He  afterwards 
asked  me  if  I  remembered  the  verse  in  one  of  Wattes 
hymns  on  the  thought  of  dying  at  the  foot  of  the  Cross, 
and  repeated  these  lines  with  remarkable  energy  and 
feeling : 

"*  Should  worlds  conspire  to  drive  me  hence, 
:\         ■  '         -'■  -i-t 

Moveless  and  firm  this  heart  should  lie,  ^, 

.  ^  ..  .  . 

Resolved,  (for  that's  my  last  defence,) 

If  I  must  perish — here  to  die.' 

hi.:  -^ 

After  this  he  said  that  '  he  owed  it  to  his  fellow-countrjr* 
men  to  express  his  deep  conviction  of  the  divine  inspira- 
tion of  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  had  embodied 
some  thoughts  which  he  gave  to  Mr.  Edward  Curtis. 

"He  repeated  the  text,  'Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesu^ 
Christ  and  thou  shalt  be  saved,'  and  then,  what  he  had 
given  to  be  inscribed  upon  his  tombstone,  which  was  as 
follows :  *  ^ 

,_;:,,  --.'0 

"'Lord  I  believe,  help  Thou  mine  unbelief.' 

.***  Philosophical  argument,  especially  that  drawn  fironi 
the  vastness  of  the  Universe,  in  comparison  with  the  ap- 


POUBTH    LECTURE.  351" 

parent  insignificance  of  this  globe,  has  sometimes  shaken 
my  reason  for  the  faith  which  is  in  me;  but  my  heart  has 
always  assured  and  re*assured  me,  that  the  Gospel  of  Je- 
sus Christ  must  be  a  Divine  reality. 

,"'Tho  Sermon  on  the  Mount  cannot  be  a  merely. hu- 
man  production.  This  belief  enters  into  the  very  dep^lj 
of  my  conscience.  ^  g^#j» 

,    "'.The  whole  history  of  man  proves  it.  .     f^. 

fii^m^^    io  i>iiO  J  "^  ^  '^^^• 

,.    .  .  "'DANIEL  Webster;,. 

brui  '     ^^"^ 

"He  afterwards  said  that  he  wished  also  to  leave  sou^Qt 

where  his  testimony  in  favor  of  early  piety;  that  he  was 
familiar  with  all  the  great  poets,  Pope,  Dry  den,  Cowper, 
Milton,  and  others,  but  that  the  hymns  of  Watts,  from  his 
cradle  hymns  to  his  verson  of  the  Psalms,  and  other 
deeper  hymns,  were  always  uppermost  in  his  mind  and 
on  his  tongue;  that  he  could  repeat  them  faster  than  fdiir 
scribes  could  write  them  down.  v;m 

I  "He  conveyed  very  strongly  by  his  remarks,  that  his 
early  religious  instruction  and  acquirements  had  always 
had  the  most  profound  and  abiding  influence  upon  his 
mind   and   life.  :r:j 

Pj.  "  I  was  informed  by  Mrs.  Webster,  about  a  fortnight 
before  his  death,  that  he-  had  been  speaking  to  her  of;  hiiS 
case,  and  expressed  the  apprehension  that  it  would  ter- 
minate fatally ;  he  then  appeared  to  consider  his  prepara- 
tion for  the  event,  and  clasping  his  hands,  he  said,  with 
deep  emotion,  '  I  believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.' ,   otii 


358  NOTES     TO 

"A  short  time  before  he  became  unable  to  express  his 
thoughts,  he  appeared  to  be  engaged  in  silent  prayer,  (as 
I  often  noticed  his  appearance  to  indicate  during  his  sick- 
ness,) when  he  gave  utterance  to  something — a  few  words 
of  which  were  low  and  lost  by  me;  that  which  followed 
was — '  b  it  whatsoever  I  do,  Almighty  God,  receive  me  to 
Thyself  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake.'  He  also  exclaimed,  *I 
shall  be  to-night  in  life,   and  joy,  and  blessedness.' " 

■■)*J     OTL' 


1)0 


Page   222. 

The  claim  of  Greece  to  have  been  the  parent  of  the 
Polite  Arts,  especially  of  Architecture,  has  been  so  gen- 
erally admitted,  and  to  such  an  unqualified  extent,  that  I 
feel  bound  to  fortify  the  position  I  have  taken  on  behalf 
of  the  Hebrew  nation,  by  authorities  which  cannot  be  dis- 
puted. As  the  works  to  which  I  chiefly  refer  are  not  of 
ready  access,  I  will  make  full  extracts  from  two  of  them 
which  are  named  in  the  Lecture,  and  in  which  the  ques- 
tion is  treated  with  much  learning  and  ability.  I  am  indebt- 
ed to  that  well  known  architect,  Alexander  J.  Davis,  Esq. 
for  his  kindness  in  placing  both  of  them  within  my  reach. 

Wood^s  "  Origin  of  Building,  or  The  Plagiarism  of  the  l^ 
Heathens  detected,"  was  published  in  1741 ;  and  like  many 
works  written  at  that  period,  shows  patient  research  and 
a  thorough  acquaintance  with  all  authorities,  ancient  or 
modem,  sacred  or  profane,  which  have  any  bearing  on 
the  subject.  He  refers  largely  to  Vitruvius  who  compiled  /^ 
much  of  his  elaborate  work  on  Architecture  from  the 
writings  of  the  most  celebrated  architects  of  Greece;  and 
as  a  sentimenlr^h^^^f^OMomon  by  them  all,  he  tells  us, 

Z^>    09  THR         ^<^ 


360  >HaNOTES    TO 

"The  chance  or  fortune  which  superintended  theris* 
of  everything  curious  in  Architecture,  was,  under  all  its 
appellations,  esteemed  by  the  ancients  as  a  divine  power, 
and  no  less  than  God  alone.  And  indeed  if  we  examine! 
into  the  writings  of  the  most  eminent  authors  of  ancient 
history,  as  well  sacred  as  profane,  we  shall  find  them'^IB 
confess,  that  the  knowledge  our  ancestors  first  had  in  arts 
and  sciences  was  given  them  immediately  by  God.  And 
therefore,  though  Vitruvius  lays  it  down  as  a  principle, 
that  mankind  are  by  nature  teachable,  and  inclined  to 
imitation,  he  has  nevertheless  declared,  they  were  above 
three  thousand  years  before  they,  even  by  chance,  did 
any  thing  worthy  to  be  recorded,  and  that  many  centu-' 
ries  passed  before  another  step  was  taken  towards  pexfe6*^ 
tion  in  their  works  of  Architecture." 

Having  described  the  rude  structures  that  were  reatedl 
in  the  early  ages  of  the  world,  or  during  these  thousands 
of  years,  in  which  men  seem  to  have  borrowed  most  of 
their  conceptions  in  building  from  beasts  of  the  field  and' 
birds  of  the  air,  Mr.  Wood  comes  to  the  period  at  which  ^ 
the  Tabernacle  was  erected  by  Moses  in  the  Wilderness,^ 
"according  to  the  pattern  shown  to  him  in  the  mount,"" 
stating,  what  he  satisfactorily  proves,  that 

*In  works  of  Architecture,  before  the  Tabernacle  was 
erected,  the  effect,  or  the  labor  of  the  hands,  in  a  great' 
measure,  preceded  the  cause,  or  the  labor  of  the  mind; 
and  consequently,   the  buildings  so  performed    must  be 


FIFTH     LECTURE.  301 

without  order,  proportion,  or  unj  otlier  character  that 
could  render  them  beautiful.' 
,  "But  in  the  Tabernacle,  the  cause  preceded  the  effect, 
the  fabric  was  presented  to  the  mind  perfectly  finished, 
the  magnitude  of  every  individual  part  was  undoubtedly 
given,  and  the  whole  was  explained  in  the  most  compre- 
hensive terms,  previous  to  the  execution  of  it:  And  as 
the  highest  demonstration  that  Architecture  was  not  then 
arrived  to  such  a  degree  of  perfection  as  to  afford  any 
Q^e  among  those  whose  lives  had  been  spent  under  bond- 
age among,  the  Egyptians,  in  tlie  building  art,  capable  of 
working  after  prescribed  rules  and  a  just  pattern,  God,  at 
the  same  time  that  he  directed  the  Tabernacle  to  be 
built,  determined  it  necessary  to  fill  all  those  that  were 
wise-hearted  with  his  own  spirit  in  wisdom  and  imderstand- 
ing,  to  enable  them  to  perform  that  sample  of  new  and 
perfect  Architecture." 

]  ;  This  Tabernacle  though  designed  for  religious  services 
in  the  worship  of  the  true  God,  is  shown  to  have  hac 
its  influence  in  revolutionizing  the  manner  of  building 
for  the  purposes  of  personal  comfort  and  convenience  as 
well  as  for  devotion  both  among  the  Hebrews  and  among 
other  nations ;  and  having  dwelt  upon  this  topic  through ; 
several  chapters,  showing  the  progress  of  Building  from 
the  time  of  Moses  to  the  concluding  years  in  the  reign 
of  David,  he  proceeds  to  describe  the  erection  of  the  Tem- 
ple by  Solomon.     This  wonderful  structure,  as  the  Bible 


3C2  -^^So 


TES    TO 


expressly  declares,  was  built  according  to  the  plan  laid 
down  before  Solomon  and  the  princes,  Priests  and  Levites, ' 
by  David;    who  declared  when  he  laid  it  before   them, 
"All  this  the  Lord  made  me  understand  in  writing  by 
fiis  hand  upon  me." 

The  situation  of  the  Temple,  its  parts  and  proportions, 
its  courts  and  its  furniture,  and  the  time  and  labor  taken' 
in  the  erection  of  the  edifice,  are  all  described  by  the 
author  with  a  singular  minuteness.     After  which  he  adds, 

"By  this  Temple,  Architecture  was  brought  to  the 
highest  perfection;  from  this  Temple,  and  the  Tabernacle, 
the  choicest  examples  of  building  among  the  ancients 
were  copied;  and  from  the  Tabernacle  and  Temple  we 
hope  we  shall  be  able  to  prove,  undeniably,  that  the 
Dorich,  lonick  and  Corinthian  Orders  of  Columns  were 
taken.  These  Orders  we  shall  treat  of  after  we  have 
recited  some  of  the  great  works  for  which  Egypt,  As- 
sjrria,  Media,  Babylonia,  Greece  and  Italy  are  so  remark- 
able in  History." 

It  is  no  more  than  justice  to  the  author,  to  say  that 
he  has  brought  abundance  of  proof  to  show  that  the 
architecture  of  these  various  nations  was  largely  indebted 
to  the  Temple  at  Jerusalem.  But'  I  do  not  make  any 
farther  quotations  from'  his  learned  Volume,  as  I  wish  to 
reserve  space,  the  more  fully  to  exhibit  the  argument  of 
-^  '  Mr.  Wilkina 


FIFTH    LECTURE.  363 

This  gentleman  has  a  world-wide  fame  as  an  archi- 
tect He  was  Regius  Professor  of  Architecture  in  the 
Rojal  Academy,  and  for  a  time  a  Senior  Fellow  of  Caius 
College  in  the  University  of  Cambridge.  He  had  access 
to  every  source  of  information  which  he  could  des're, 
spent  his  life  in  making  them  all  aviiilable  for  high  cul- 
tivation in  his  profession,  and  in  his  various  productions 
he  writes  with  the  elegance  and  perspicuity  of  a  finished 
scholar.  His  Vitruvius,  and  his  Antiquities  of  Magna  ^ 
Graecia  published  more  than  forty  years  ago,  are  ac- 
knowledged as  standard  works;  and  his  Essays  or  Pro-  ^ 
lusiones  Architectonica3  were  prepared  ami  given  to  the 
world  at  a  later  period,  as  his  matured  views  on  the 
several  subjects  which  they  embrace.  It  is  the  Essay  en- 
titled "The  Temple  at  Jerusalem,  the  type  of  Grecian  w 
Architecture,"  from  which  I  take  the  following: 

"The  history  of  the  Jewish  nation  offers  to  the  con- 
sideration of  the  philosopher  and  the  historian  many  pe- 
culiar circumstances,  no  where  else  exemplified  in  any 
one  branch  of  the  great  family  of  mankind,  originating 
from  one  common  stem.  Although,  as  from  the  sources 
of  some  great  river  whose  stream  is  augmented  by  tribu- 
tary waters,  a  portion  of  the  primary  element  is  carried 
through  distinct  and  distant  nations,  the  decendants  of 
those  races  who  separated  on  the  dispersion  of  mankind, 
preserve  some  points  of  resemblance  in  the  forms  of  their 
civil  and  religious  observances,  which  an  analysis  will 
trace  to  the  same  comimon  origin;   yet  in  all  the  charac- 


864  NOTES     TO 

^^ristics  wliich  distinguish  the  Israelites  from  other  nations, 
the  difference  is  wide.     The  most  remarkable  of  the  dis- 

.  tinctions  which  divide  the  Jewish  people  from  the  rest  of 
the  world,  is  the  immutability  of  their  laws.     The  code 

/bequeathed  to  them  bj  their  great  law-giver  contains,  a 
modern  writer  has  observed,  'the  only  complete  body  of 

4aw  which  was  ever  given  to  a  people  at  one  time — ^that 

^jl^is  the  only  entire  body  of  law  which  has  come  down 

»vJto>pur  days — that  it  is  the  only  body  of  ancient  law 
iWhich  still  governs  an  existing  people — that  the  nation 
•ivhich  it  respects  being  scattered  over  the  face  of   the 

;:Whole  earth,  it  is  the  only  body  of  law  that  is  equally 
.observed  in  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe — and,  finally, 
[that  all  the  other  codes  of  law,  of  which  history  has  pre- 

.pqrved  any  recollection,  were  given  to  communities  who 
already  had  written  statutes,  but  who  wished  to  change 
•their  form  or  modify  their  application;  whereas,  in  tMs 
/^a^e,  we  behold  a  new  society  under  the  hands  of  a  leg- 
islator who  proceeds  to  lay  its  very  foundations.' 

"By  far  the  most  interesting  of  the  considerations  con- 
j^cted  with  the  history  of  this  singular  people,  are  those 

>  connected  with  Christianity.  'In  opposition  to  their  own 
wishes,'  says  the  same  learned  writer,  '  they  laid  the  foun- 
dation of  a  religion  which  has  not  only  superseded  their 
peculiar  rites,  but  is  rapidly  advancing  to  that  universal 

^jicceptation  which  they  were  wont  to  anticipate  in  favor 
of  their  own  ancient  law.' 

"The  most  brilliant  era  in   the  history  of  this,  nation 


FIFTH     LECTURE.  865 

is  that  which  immediately  followed  the  accession  of  Solo- 
mon, the  great  glory  of  whose  reign  is  identified  with  the 
erection  of  the  temple.  Although  this  great  undertaking 
was  mainly  subservient  to  spiritual  purposes,  the  advan- 
tages arising  from  its  construction  were  widely  spread, 
and  exercised  an  almost  boundless  influence  over  other 
important  objects.  It  was  in  the  reign  of  this  prince, 
and  a  consequence  arising  from  this  act  of  piety,  that 
the  Hebrews  first  became  a  commercial  people.  It  is 
proved,  on  the  authority  of  the  sacred  writings,  that 
in  pursuing  this  vast  undertaking,  the  monarch  was  un- 
der the  necessity  of  employing  foreign  artists,  and  of 
procuring  one  of  the  most  essential  materials  for  building 
from  a  distant  source.  In  return  for  the  works  of  metal, 
and  of  everything  connected  with  the  sculptor's  art,  the 
natural  productions  of  Palestine  were  exchanged,  with 
those  mutual  advantages  which  form  the  basis  of  interna- 
tional commerce.  The  subsistence  of  the  multitudes  em- 
ployed in  this  vast  work  called  forth  the  energies  and 
resources  of  agriculture. 

"These    circumstances    of    unremitting    industry   are 

•^intimately  connected  with  the  history  of  art ;  and  occurring 
at  a  period  of  history  when  tradition  was  exchanged  for 
authentic  documents,  it  follows  that  additional  interest  is 

i 'excited  in  the  mind  of  the  archaaologist  and  the  historian. 
"The  chief   object  of   the   present  dissertation   is  to 
show   the   influence   produced   on   the  arts   by   the  com- 
mencement and  accomplishment  of  this  great   enterprise, 

23 


866  ,^  ,j    .NOTES     TO  .  ^ 

and  the  example  it  aiForded  to  the  architects  of  the  ages 
immediately   following,  as  yet  unskilled   in   architectuj;e, 
and  wanting  some  type  of  great  authority  for  their  guidanoe. 
"Tlje   earliest    temples  in   Greece   were  built    in  the 
most  simple   of  the   forms   enumerated  by   later  writers. 
The  great  dramatist  describes  his  sacred  edifice,  not  in 
conformity  with  a  more  decorated   kind,  which  had  been 
introduced  as  much  as  seven  centuries  before  oar  era,  but 
with  regard  to  the  chronology  of  the  events  he  represents. 
Thus  the  Temple  of  Diana,  in  the  'Iphigenia  in  Tauris, 
<<i^  described   to   be  of  this  simple   kind,  because  the  plot 
^of  his  di'ama  was  laid  at  a  very  remote  period,  and   no 
J-., circumstance  prevented  him  from   representing  an  imagi- 
ynary  buildmg   as  one  of  a  primitive  form.     In  the  'Ion,' 
i;  however,  although  the  fable  of  the  drama  may  be  referred 
to    a    still    earlier    age,   it    was    necessary    to   make  the 
description  of  the  temple  at  Delphi  accord  with  the  then 
.  existing  edifice,  which  was  well  knovvn  to   the   audiences 
,of  hia^age.     The  temple  has  a  portico,  cella,  and  adytunx; 
j^the    pediments    are    adorned  with    sculpture,   which    the 
,  watcliful  care  of  Ion  preserves  free  from  the  pollution  of 
.  the  winged  tribes.     The  labors  of  Hercules  are  represent- 
ed  probably  on  the  metopse.     The   battle  of  the   Giants 
was  also  sculptured  probably  on  the  walls  of  the  peribo- 
,.lus.     Armor  was  suspended  on  the  epistylia,  in  the  same 
,  manner,  as  the  golden  shields  of  the  Parthenon. 

The  form  of  the  temple  adopted  at  the  earliest  period 
.^of.  temple-building  in  Greece  was   that  termed  by  Vitni- 


FIFTH     LECTUUE.  867 

vius  in  Antisy  that  is  to  say,  a  building  having  a  cella, 
with  a  pronaos  formed  by  the  interposition  of  two  co- 
lumns between  the  extended  walls  of  the  cellar  some- 
times an  opisthodomus  or  posticum  was  added  in  the 
rear.  The  very  ancient  temple  at  Rhamnus  was  built 
with  a  cella  only,  and  an  advanced  vestibule  before  it. 
As  the  art  of  building  became  better  known,  and^^'bs 
luxury  increased,  the  whole  of  the  simple  teiriplc  was 
surrounded  by  a  peristyle,  and  placed  within  a  peribolus 
or  inclosed  area  of  considerable  extent.  The  peribolus 
was  sometimes  a  wall  only;  but  frequently  an  elaboiato 
portico,  properly  so  called,  surrounded  the  walls  inward- 
ly. Upon  these  walls,  and  there  only,  were  the  paintings 
BO  frequently  mentioned  by  ancient  writings,  where  they 
were  protected  from  the  effects  of  the  weather,  and 
where  they  received  light  through  the  opeh  intervals  be- 
tween the  columns.  The  inner  court  of  the  Jewish  tem- 
ple was  a  peribolus  of  this  kind,  although  perhnps  it 
formed  no  part  of  the  early  Greek  temple.  Such  omis- 
sion would  not  militate  against  the  assumption  that  this 
was  taken  from  a  Syrian  model ;  because  in  the  early 
introduction  of  an  art,  we  are  at  first  content  to  limit 
our  performances  to  some  modification  of  the  type. 

It  has  until  lately  been  universally  admitted,  that  all 
temples  in  which  ranges  of  columns  are  found  within  the 
cella  were  hypaethral;  that  is  to  say,  they  had  a  large 
aperture  in  the  roof  over  the  centre  of  the  cella  open 
to   the  heavens.     This  erroneous   opinion  has    no  other 


S68  ;  .1  iwroTirs    TO 

authority  than  a  presumed  correction  of  a  passage  m  the 
text  of  Vitruyius,  which    is    generally    acknowledged   to 
''t)daj&' corrupt  as  it  is  at  variance  with  the  contextiv  i  q 
air  i'>  There  is  an  essential  difference   in   the   construction 
^^'6f  (Sh-eek  and  Egyptian  temples.    The  cella  of  the  latter 
•''^•te  of   very    limited    dimensions;    it  is  a   mere    c/jjcW   or 
J -sanctuary;  the  cella  of  Grecian  temples,  on  the  contrary, 
^  are  frequently  of  considerable  magnitude;  there  is  some 
•  times  an   opisthodomus  or   inner  sanctuary,  but   in  gen- 
eral the  cella  was  approached  both  in  front  and  in  the 
c^tear.  the    postern  or   opisthodomus    at    one    end  corrcs- 
■  ponding  with  the  pronaos  at  the  other.    In  the  Parthc- 
'Otton,   indeed,  the    inner    sanctuary    of  the    more    ancient 
temples  has  been  retained,  but  it   was  not   like  that   of 
the  t6mj)le  of  Jerusalem — ^the  most  sanctified  part  of  the- 
^'temple;    on  the  contrary,   it  was  applied  to  purposes  of 
"^-no  '  religious  tendency, — it  was   the  treasury  of  the   tem- 
'-*^le.    When  we,  therefore,  institute  a  comparison  between 
'■phe  Jewish  temple  and  the  sacred    structures  of  Greece, 
''fwe '  Wtist  expect  to  find  a  difference  of  arrangement,  iii 
J  conformity  with  the  exigencies  of  the  different  and  dLs- 
(tinct  tit^s  of  the  two  people.    With  these  allowances,  we 
shall   .find    an    intimate    correspondence    of   proportions, 
Which    \yill    lead    us   to  the    conclusion  that  both   were 
^Ijonstructed  upon  similar  principles;     and  the   necessary 
mference  will  follow,  that  the  earlier  examples  were  the 
prototypes  of  those  of  later  times  constructed  in  distant 
countries.     If  we   compare   the   plan   and  proportions   of 


FIFTH    IgBOTTTRE.  360 

i'Ae  Syrian  temple  with  thos3  of  some  of  tha ;  etjti'Ii^^t  ^- 

u^mples  of  Grecian  origin,  sucli,  for  example,  tis  l^bose  at 
Psestum  and  ^gina,  a  resemblance  Avill  be  (frunclito 
exist,  that  can  only  be  attributed  to  the  adoption  of  the 
same  principles  by  the  architects  of  Palestine  and  Greece 
"The  arrangement  and  the  dimensions' of  the  Jew- 
ish  temple  are  given  so  much  at  length  in  the  sacr^i^ 
writings,  that   we  are  enabled   to  asceortain   its  size  and 

-idhnography  with  a  great  degree  of  precision-;  andt  I 
shall  now  proceed  to  show  that  a  very  extraordinary 
coincidence,  both  in  proportion  and  in  actual  diriiensious, 
existed  between  this  and  tjie  temple  at  Pa?stura:,  tl^at 
could  only  have  originated  in  the  intention  of ..  the  pro- 
jectors of  the  latter  to  adopt  the  other  as  tljeir  model, 
and  to  adhere  to  it  with  as  much  precision  as  was  con- 
sistent with  the  observance  of  different  forms  of  wprsliip 

■  in  the  two   nations.     We  shall   find,  therefore,  ,that.  tjfie 

t^'-variation  chiefly  consists  in  those  parts  essential  to  the 
one,  and  unnecessary  to  the  other ;  or,  to  speak  with 
greater  precision,  between  the  sanctuary  of  the  Jewish 
temple  and  the  posticum  of  the  Grecian. 

"  In  order  to  prove  this,  it  will  be  necessary  to  col- 

.  lect  those  passages  in  the  sacred  writings  which  refer  to 
the  construction  of  the  several  parte  of  the  Syrian   tem- 

'  pie,  which,  as  they  abound  in  technical  terms,  require 
the  illustration  of  an  architect  by  profession/'  9')notolfli 

/ioioiq 
Mr.  Wilkins    accordingly    quotes   the    description    of 


370  '"%OTES    TO 

Solomon's  temple  as  found  in  the  Bible,  and  having 
given  a  careful  analysis  of  the  whole,  he  places  the 
plans,  sections  and  elevations  of  the  Hebrew  arid  Greek 
temples  in  immediate  juxta-position ;  and  shows  such  a 
resemblance  in  dimension,  proportion,  and  in  all  the" 
grfeat  principles  of  construction,  carried  out  in  the  essen- 
tial parts  or  features  of  both,  as  renders  the  conclusion 
irresistible,  that  the  temple  at  Jerusalem  had  been  adopt 
ed  as  a  model  for  the  temples  of  Greece. 

"  In  coming  to  such  a  conclusion,"  he  goes  on  to  saj, 
"^we  are  led  to  the  inference  that  an  intimate  connexion 
existed   between    the   countries  in  which  they   are  seve-  ^" 
rally  found;  and  that  a  mode  of  constructing  temples  was  '' 
transmitted  directly,  and  with  little   of  the   intermediate 
assistance   of    a    third   state.     The   interval  between  the 
foundation    of   the    two   temples    is  remarkable    for   the    ' 
gr^at   intercourse  which   connected  the  eastern  shores  of 
the  Mediterranean  Sea  with  Greece  and  her  colonies;  and    ' 
even  those  writers  who  contend  that  these  were  peopled 
by  Egyptians,  or  by   a    race    residing  on    the   Delta    of 
the    Nile,    admit    that    these   Egyptians    came    originally 
fi-om  the  shores  of  Syria.    To  me  it  appears,  from  a  con-    ^ 
eideration  of  all   that  has  been   written  on   the   subject, 
that  we  must  regard  Syria  as  the  parent  of  the  settlers  '•" 
in  Greece.      A  rapid    sketch  of  the  position  of  Egypt, 
in   regard  to   the   islands   of  the  Mediterranean  and   the 
shores   of  the  Grecian    continent,   will   tend,  I  think,  to     ' 
confirm  this   opinion;    but  as  this    question  will   be  bet-    '- 


FIFTH     LECTURE.  371 

ter  discussed  separately,  I  shall  proceed  to  illustrate  the  , 
passages  vhich  I  have  selected  as  corroborative  of  simi-  . 
lar  principles,  adopted  by  the  builders  of  the  two  celo- 
brated  temples  to  which  I  have  alluded  in  the  present 
Essay.  Differences  will  be  found  to  exist  in  the  ar- 
rangements of  the  interior,  dictated  by  the  different 
rites,  and  the  different  appropriation  of  the  temples 
within  the  walls:  the  ceremonials  of  two  very  distinct 
religions  must  necessarily  demand  distributions  adapted 
to  the  performance  of  their  religious  observances. 

"  The  adyta  of  Grecian  temples  were  open  to;  the  in- 
spection of  all  ranks  of  the  people;  and  in  the  greater 
nupiber  of  temples  there  was  an  approach  to  the  cclla 
at  either  end:  whereas  in  4he  Jewish  temple,  the  cella 
was  only  accessible  by  the  ministers  of  religioii)  and  tlie 
oracle  was  entered  by  the  high  priest  aJone.  Thus,  although 
the  proportions  externally  might  be  similar,  the  division  - 
of  the    interior    would   be   regulated    by  circumstances.    ; 

In    the    porch   of   the   Jewish   temple  we    have    the  . 
type  of  the  Grecian  vaoq  ev  TiapdcTaCiv  the  earliest  and    i 
the   simplest  form  of  their  sacred  buildings.     Th^  IpieHs^  . 
tyle  was  a  later  addition,  made  as  the  Greek  colonies  ad-  '; 
vance'd   in    population  and  wealth.     This    great  advance 
toward    magnificence    was    not    made    without    reference 
to  the  early  type  whence  an  infant  colony  borrowed  the 
essential  part    of   their  religions    edifices,    omitting  such 
decoration  as    was    otherwise    useless    and    beyond    the 
straitened  means  of  the  first  settlers.  ^    H 


372  NOTKS     TO 

The  Jewish  temple  appears  to  have  been  founde<.l 
one  thousand  and  fifteen  years  before  Christ.  Very  soc«i 
afterwards,  temples  were  built  in  Greece  and  in  some  of 
the  islands  of  the  Archipelago,  by  colonies  sent  by  Mi- 
nos from  Crete.  Minos  was  contemporary  with  Solomon, 
and  had  acquired  a  powerful  fleet  for  the  purposes  of  a 
commerce  in  which  his  subjects  were  engaged  with  most 
of  the  surrounding  states.  The  most  friendly  intercourse 
Bubsisted  between  the  Cretans  and  the  Phoenicians  at 
this  period :  the  latter  are  stated  to  have  manned  the 
navy  of  the  former.  From  such  intimate  connexion  may 
have  arisen  the  tradition  related  by  Polydorus  Vergilius, 
on  the  authority  of  Diogenes  Laertius,  that  Epimenides 
of  Crete  w^as  the  first  to  erect  temples  in  the  Grecian 
communities.  When  we  find  it  recorded  that  Epimeni* 
des  lived  299  years,  we  may  be  assured  that  a  family, 
and  not  an  individual,  of  this  name  existed  for  this 
lengthened  period;  and  that  the  Hierotect  and  the  So- 
phist flourished  at  distant  intervals  of  time,  the  first  as 
early  as  the  ninth  century  before  our  era;  and  this  will 
reconcile  the  assertion  of  Diogenes  Laertius  with  the 
statement  of  Strabo.  About  the  same  period  Daedalus 
flourished :  his  name  is  intimately  connected  with  the  early 
("yreek  colonies  which  settled  in  Sicily,  where  considerable ' 
remains  of  temples  of  the  highest  antiquity  are  still  found. 

The    actors  in  the   events   recorded,  Minos  and  Dae- 
dalus, may  be   merely  imaginary  beings :   whether   they  • 
really    existed,    and   took   the    active    part    assigned    to 


FIFTH     LECTURE.  ^6^ 

jtliem,  will  not  affect  the  truth  of  the  historical  facts 
if^ith  which  they  liave  been  identified.  The  Greeks  \Vdi^ 
3aceustomed  to  throw  an  air  of  romance  and  mysteVy 
oyer  all  the  incidents  of  a  remote  period:  the  conimbii- 
,est  events  were  made  to  assume  the  appearance  of  "iifl- 
.racles  performed  by  the  agency  of  imaginary  beings.  The 
fable  of  the  Minotaur  is  one  of  this  description:  the  i*rf- 
tional  examiner  will  see  nothing  in  it  beyond  the  fac^, 
that  Athens  was  at  this  time  a  tributary  state  to  (IJr^te, 
and  hence  We  might  infer  the  connection  between  tBietri, 
if  the  testimony  of  many  varied  and  abstract  events  dit'l 
pot  concur  in  placing  this  degree  of  active  intercourte 
.beyond  all  doubt  The  chain  which  connects  Syria'  atid 
the  great  islands  of  the  Eastern  Archipelago  with 
Greece,  Sicily,  and  Magna-Grsecia,  connects  also  th^iii' 
tirts  and  architecture."  .  -'^  = 

The  space  which  I  have  allotted  in  this  note  to  the 
subject  of  Architecture,  leaves  me  the  less  room  for  qudt? 
ing  authorities  or  proofs,  showing  how  the  knowledge! of 
the  Hebrews  in  other  arts  and  sciences  formed  the  basis 
pn  which  surrounding  and  subsequent  nations  built  their 
elainas  to  eminence.  Indeed  the  very  large  extent  to 
which  the  poets  and  ethical  writers  of  Greece  and  Eome 
borrowed  from  the  Hebrew  writings,  has  been  so  often 
proved,  and  in  works  extensively  circulated,  that  there  is 
the  less  occasion  to  quote  from  them.  I  may  observe 
however,   that  there   is  one   author  who   has    given    so 


374  FIFTH     LECTURE. 

satisfactory  though  a  summary  viev;-  of  the  intere^ing 
subject,  that  he  is  entitled  to  be  named  and  commended 
to  those  who  have  not  the  means  or  the  time  to  pursue 
their  inquiries  farther  than  he  would  lead  them.  I  refer 
to  "The  Connection  between  the  Sacred  Writings  and 
the  Literature  of  Jewish  and  Himthen  Authors,  particu- 
larly that  of  the  Classical  ages,  illustrated  by  Robert 
Gray,  D.  D.  Prebendary  of  Durham  and  Chichester,  and 
Rector  of  Bishop  Wearmouth." 

•  !■ '  w  .'!  ii 

.ore  ■^■■^n 


Paob   260. 

It  is  said  by  several  of  Galileo's  biographers,  that  im- 
mediately after  he  had  gone  through  with  his  abjuration, 
he  stamped  on  the  floor,  and  whispered  to  one  of  his 
friends  standing  near  him,  "E  pur  si  muove."  "It  does 
move  though." 

Page  270. 

Sir  David  Brewster,  in  his  interesting  little  volume  en-     ^ 
titled    The    "Martyrs    of  Science,"  has    shown    how   tri-     ^ 
umphantly  Galileo    might  have  vindicated  himself  from 
the  assaults  made  upon  him,  if  he  had  possessed  firmness 
enough  to  avail  himself  of  his  own  advantages. 

"In  studying  with  attention,"  says  that  accomplished 
philosopher,  "this  portion  of  scientific  history,  the  reader 
will  not  fail  to  perceive  that  the  Church  of  Rome  was 
driven  into  a  dilemma,  from  which  the  submission  and 
abjuration  of  Galileo  could  alone  extricate  it.  He  who 
confesses  a  crime  and  denounces  its  atrocity,  not  only  sanc- 
tions, but  inflicts  the  punishment  which  is  annexed  to  it. 


876  .Hil^KOTES     TO 

Had  Galilep  declared  Jiis  innocence  and  avowed  his  seW- 
timents,  and  had  he  appealed  to  the  past  conduct  of  tl^ 
Ghurch  itself,  to  the  acknowledged  opinions  of  its  digni- 
taries, and  even  to  the  acts  of  its  Pontiffs,  he  would  have 
at  once  confounded  his  accusers  and  escaped  from  thci*r 
toils.  After  Copernicus,  himself  a  Catholic  priest,  liad 
openlj  maintained  the  motion  of  the  earth  and  the  sihi- 
bility  of  the  sun ;  after  he  had  dedicated  the  work  whicll 
advocated  these  opinions  to  Pope  Paul  III.  on  the  expres;^ 
ground  that  tlie  authority  of  the  Pontiff  might  silence  thi^ 
calumnies  of  those  who  attacked  these  opinions  by  argii^ 
;ments  drawn  from  Scripture;  after  the  Cardinal  Schonberg 
and  the  Bishop  of  Culm  had  urged  Copernicus  to  pub- 
lish the  new  doctrines ;  and  after  the  Bishop  of  Ermeland 
had  erected  a  monument  to  commemorate  his  great  di^co'-* 
veries,  how  could  the  Church  of  Eome  have  appealed  <^ 
its  pontifical  decrees  as  the  ground  of  persecuting  a^t? 
punishing  Galileo  ?  Even  in  later  times  the  same  doctrlri^ 
had  been  propagated  with  entire  toleration;  nay,  in  the^ 
very  year  of  Galileo's  first  persecution,  Paul  Anthony 
Foscarinus,  a  learned  Carmelite'  monk,  wrote  a  pamphlet, 
in  which  he  illustrates  and  defends  the  mobility  of  tKd 
earth,  and  endeavors  to  reconcile  to  this  new  doctrine  the 
passages  of  Scripture  which  had  been  employed  to  siib^ 
vert  it.  This  very  singular  production  was  dated  Froni 
the  Carmelite  convent  at  Naples;  was  dedicated  to  the 
very  reverend  Sebastian  Fantoni,  General  of  the  Carmelite 
Order;  and,  sanctioned  by  the  ecclesiastical  authorities,  it 


SIXTH    LECTURE.  ^ 

was  published   at   Naples  in  1615,  the  very  year  of  the 
first  persecution  of  Galileo. 

_j^n  IJNor  was  this  the  only  defence  of  the  Copernican 
system  which  issued  from  the  bosom  of  the  Church. 
Thomas  Campanella,  a  Calabrian  monk,  published  in  1622 
♦*An  Apology  for  Galileo,"  and  he  even  dedicates  it  to* 
D.  Boniface,  cardinal  of  Cajeta.  Nay,  it  appears  from  me 
dedication  that  he  undertook  the  work  at  the  command 
of  the  cardinal,  and  that  the  examination  of  the  question  had 
bpen  intrusted  to  the  cardinal  by  the  Holy  Senate.  After 
j^u  able  defence  of  his  friend,  Campanella  refers,  at  the 
conclusion  of  his  apology,  to  the  suppression  of  Galileo's 
writings,  and  justly  observes  that  the  effect  of  such  a 
measure  would  be  to  make  them  more  generally  read  and 
more  highly  esteemed.  The  boldness  of  the  apologist,  how- 
ever, is  wisely  tempered  with  the  humility  of  the  eccle- 
siastic; and  he  concludes  his  work  with  the  declaration, 
that  in  all  his  opinions,  whether  written  or  to  be  written, 
he  submits  himself  to  the  opinions  of  the  Holy  Mother 
Church  of  Rome  and  to  the  judgment  of  his  superiors. 
,.,T,*fBy  these  proceedings  of  the  dignitaries,  as  ,wcll  as 
the  clergy  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  which  had  been 
tolerated  for  more  than  a  century,  the  decrees  of  the 
pontiffs  against  the  doctrine  of  the  earth's  motion,  were 
virtually  repealed,  and  Galileo  might  have  pleaded  them 
with  success  in  arrest  of  judgment.  Unfortunately,  how- 
ever, for  himself  and  for  science,  he  acted  otherwise. 
By  admitting   their  authority,  be  revived   in  fresh  force 


m 


NOTES     TO 


these  obsolete  and  obnoxious  enactments ;  and  by  yield- 
ing to  their  power,  he  rivetted  for  another  century  th^ 
almost  broken  chains  of  spiritual  despotism." 

As  his  comment  on  the  whole  melancholy  story,' 
Sir  David  makes  the  following  remarks,  which  are 
equally  important  in  themselves,  and  beautifully  ex- 
pressed. 

"It  is  a  curious  fact  in  the  annals  of  heresy  and 
sedition,  that  opinions  maintained  with  impunity  by- 
one  individual,  have,  in  the  same  age,  brought  others 
to  the  stake  or  to  the  scaffold.  The  results  of  deep  re- 
search or  extravagant  speculation  seldom  provoke  hos- 
tility when  meekly  announced  as  the  deductions  of 
reason  or  the  convictions  of  conscience.  As  the  dreams 
of  a  recluse  or  of  an  enthusiast,  they  may  excite  pity 
or  call  forth  contempt ;  but  like  seed  quietly  cast  into 
the  earth,  they, will  rot  and  germinate  according  to  the 
vitality  with  which  they  are  endowed.  But  if  new  and 
startling  opinions  are  thrown  in  the  face  of  the  commu- 
nity— if  they  are  uttered  in  triumph  or  in  insult — in 
contempt  of  public  opinion,  or  in  derision  of  cherished 
errors,  they  lose  the  comeliness  of  truth  in  the  rancor  of 
their  propagation ;  and  they  are  like  seed  scattered  in 
a  hurricane,  which  only  irritates  and  blinds  the  hus- 
bandman. *  *  *  He  who  is  allowed  to  take  the  start 
of  his  species,  and  to  penetrate  the  veil  which  conceals 
from  common  minds  the  mysteries   of  nature,  must  not 


SIXTH      LECTURE.  3|^ 

expect  that  tbe  world  will  be  patiently  dragged  at  the 
chariot  wheels  of  his  philosophy.      Mind  has  its  inertia   ^ 
as  well  as  matter,  and  its  progress  to  truth  can  only  be 
insured   by  the  gradual  and   patient  removal    of  the   ob- 
structions which  surround  it." 
t "/ 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  Galileo  had  too  much  over- 
looked  these  salutary  truths.  But  it  might  be  offered  in 
excuse  for  the  reckless  sarcasm  which  he  poured  upon 
bis  opponents,  that  he  suffered  great  irritation  from  their 
mode  of  assailing  him.  It  is  said  that  the  lion  of  the 
forest  goes  into  the  contest  with  entire  self-possession 
when  he  meets  an  enemy  which  he  views  as  somewhat 
his  equal  in  strength ;  but  when  assailed  by  the  insects 
that  sometimes  creep  into  his  mane,  and  fix  their  puny 
langs  in  his  flesh,  he  can  be  stung  into  the  wildness  of 
fury.  Such  were  some  of  the  small  antagonists  who 
vexed  the  spirit  of  Galileo.  One  of  them,  a  Dominican 
Friar  named  Caccini,  employed  the  pulpit  not  only  to 
attack  the  astronomer,  but  to  represent  astronomy  itself 
as  a  thing  fc^rbidden  by  the  Scriptures;  taking  for  his 
text,  "  Ye  men  of  Galilee  why,  stand  ye  gazing  up  into 
Heaven?" — the  language  of  the  Vulgate^  from  which  he 
quoted,  furnishing  by  a  singular  coincidence  a  pretext 
for  the  miserable  pun  which  he  tried  to  perpetrate  or 
Galileo's  name;  and  yet,  contemptible  as  the  artifice  was, 
it  is  said,  to  have  produced  no  small  effect  in  those  times 
pf  ignorance  and  superstition. 


380  NOTES  TO  SIXTH   LECTURE. 

It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  others^  besides  tbe  monks 
of  Galileo's  day,  have  been  very  slow  to  receive  his 
philosophy.  The  following  instance  shows  with  what 
difficulty  the  strongest  minds  are  sometimes  disentangled 
from  long  habits  of  thought,  especially  on  sacred  subjects. 
Francis  Turretin  was  no  ordinary  man.  In  the  latter  part 
of  the  seventeenth  century,  more  than  fifty  years  after 
the  discoveries  of  GaHIeo  had  made  themselves  felt  in 
the  scientific  world,  he  was  Professor  of  Divinity  at  Ge- 
neva, and  filled  the  place  with  great  reputation  to  himself 
as  a  theologian.  His  memory  is  still  perpetuated,  and 
held  in  reverence  in  piany  Protestant  churches,  chiefly 
on  account  of  his  "Institutio  Theologiae  Elencticae." 
And  yet  we  find  him  affirming,  "in  opposition,"  as  he 
says,  "to  certain  philosophers,"  that  "the  sun  and  moon 
move  in  the  heavens,  and  revolve  around  the  earth, 
while  the  earth  remains  at  rest;"  and  to  prove  his  posi- 
tion he  advances  arguments,  so  unphilosophical  and  in- 
conclusive, that  they  would  go  with  many  readers,  to 
throw  discredit  on  his  whole  system  of  theology.  His 
example  shows  how  important  it  is  that  Divines  should 
keep  up  with  the  science  of  their  day,  and  that  they  be 
furnished  with  the  means  of  doing  so. 


M&  i^ 


m  mvm 


IISTBEX. 


A. 

AbDisoN,  his  opinion  of  testimony  to  religion  at  the 

hour  of  death,  p. 169 

Architecture   of  the   Greeks  borrowed  from   the 

Hebrews,  pp 220-222 

Artists,  distinguished,  who  embraced  Christianity,  p.         .119 

Astronomy,  discoveries  in,  by  Copernicus  and  Ga- 
lileo— instance  of  how  they  illustrate  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Bible,  pp.  ....      271-273 

B. 

Bacon,  Roger,  his  early  scientific  discoveries,  pp.         ,     110,  114 
Sir   Francis,    his  character  and  work   as  a 

philosopher,  pp 121-123,  13*^ 

the  part  he  acted  in  the  spread  of  Inductive 

Philosophy,  pp.     .         .         .       254,  255,  260, 261 
BEArriR,  Dr.  his  *  Hermit ' — key  to  some  of  its  most 

beautiful  lines,  pp 135,  136 

his  exposure  of  Hume's  profligacy,  pp.         .     311,  312 
Bede,  his  employment  and  happiness  when  dying,  pp.       187,  188 
Bible,   its  wonderful   combination   of  variety  mth 

harmony,  pp.     ......     51-53 

its  anticipations   of   modern  discoveries  in 

science,  pp 53-56 


HiBi.K,   its  tendeiuj  to  repress  rush  conclusions  and 

etc  stimulate  valuable  discOVerMJs:  in  sci-  -^Mi^ii  uiO 

^^  encc.  pp.   .         .         ,   ba-tii  u.io,         .         .     53.55 

0^^-881:  its  claims  upon  our  faith,  ppi  salwqqii  aavig      ,         56-58 

the4)ook  of  thfe  human  soul.  I^J'iJn  94*  ^0/  ^^f^insv^^^ 

its  paramount  claim  to  our  faith  derived  from 

i4ts'iivterna1  oridciMXi,  and  froiti  Its  eifects    ^fiOKaAjO 
6i'2  jS-Sl'        on  the  world,  pp.    .         .         .    ^oq.y''M»' ^41-147 
in  itfeelf^a  model  ^f  Inductive  Phildsoi^iy.  ^J  '     252-^5^ 
-^  '  .  ■  ^  ^its  superior  antiquity  proved  by  its  reference  ■  *  ■'' 

"' to  Eg}-ptian  customs,  pp.    .         .         ;  '  '  • '2"d2v^^ 

'  ■  •  L  -  ^its  imperishable  cndurantre  illustrated,  pp.       .     802,  SO.'J 

its  'increased  spread '  ih"tl^^  la^t'  hiaf  fc*»^<^rria7i^oO' 

tury.  pp 11 -^^ni/an'^'te,  304 

ft^DtDi^Ess,  judicial-^how  it  fallows  wilfai  liifideli*^'^^*^'^''^^^'^^^^ 
Oil;  ^bi;ty5,'pp,  ,  ;.|q  .b'jiliiqiTLyxo  elDbiim  lo  p-uu*92.^5 

BoTLB  LECTURESiiir,  its  origin,  p.   .         .         .         .  27 

Brewster,  Sir  David,  his  comments  on  the  liostility 

'^ai-8opliOvvntoQ-aliIeo.  pp.      ,,_,,  ^,..>  ^^,.«..i.,<^^  .;  ,,..,i8i7^r377 

Byron,  I>>r(J,^|^i..T\3'^]t^l^,dne^8.-,R5i^oj  odt  rii  •  *II  oX-.n/rK^   .I'^H 

0^-n82     .  .qq  .sldiH  oiU  4|(!i/;2.n  Jnomu^ 

9'jfi9i9V0i  boaco-nni  'io  nohiirjo  aid  fiLLU/ivj^yjoT  u(l 
Ci"n^ury,  the  last  may  be  accounted  the  brazen  age 

of  infidelity,  p '        .         .         .41 

CriA^MPOixiON,   his  aid  in  explaining  the  Zodiac  in 

the  temple  of  Denderah.  p.  .  .  .  .  2yy 
CiiESTERFiEtD,  confcssions  of  his  misery,  pp.  .  \  156,  157 
Ditel^ANTY,  irrational  to  treat  it  as  a  subject  of 


INDEX.  391 

CHBiSTiAKiTr,  comparison,  showing  its  inflaeniee  on 
^S-So  the  mind.  p.      .         .     /|q  .oj.id        .         236 

8<V9S         ,      gives  impulse  to  a  spirit  of  diacoveiy.  pp,    i  238-240 
■QflmsTMAS,  how  the  name  changed  by  the  Fr(>»ch:3di 

Convention.. pp.'.  djuj't  loool  utmh  4auofsuru>q<e1i     71?  72 

CiJissics,  Qreek  and  Koman  borrowed  largely  froto 

V  M  -  i  ,^  iHebrew  poetry,  pp.      .         , ,  ■  . .  4  u; . ..     .  t  rr.>         222,  223 

jQut»^iF,  in4c]pt^4p^^,,ftf  il^$^^Bf,f,»ni  :MmQ0\i%mi  m* 

themK^pp,  ;>  ,-r  ;^(  yj.f,-  voirq  /liupiitiK  -lomoi.^  pJilHj  112 
l^^liSjixg^ENCEs,  singular,  ex^pU^ejlMiPnlt^,  Aivpspf 
::0[;  ,<jOyoltairea4?d  Gibbon/ pp., ,,,^fcn3«Idijderc)qmipJil40,  141 
Convention,, v^reiijchi  their  scurrilous  designatioi^  <^  ^jj 
lOa.r.O^hristmas.  pp.  .         .         .    .    .<jq  .-^-jui     .      71,72 

Copernicus,  his  discoveries  and  timidity.  ^•ija-hJu'i'  ,    2j64,  266 
^^Bg^juuTY  0/  infidels  exemplified,  pp.     .         .     9^^,r^lby  310 

rjr  ,         (J  .flfj;i3o  eii  /jiiititiauTyr^iJUaj/oy 

\itVtiPsnfi  orfi  no  R.tnifffmoo  pJd  ,fcr/iiG  118  ,aaTfcv/Mj{fl 
tTKAtfi^UED  testimony,  how  to  be  regarded.-^  o^  f"OiI^53.16(> 
iJriNDERAH,- Zodiac  in  the  temjile  of,  explained — fW^'^*^  ,>M>ir    ? 

nislics  no  argument  agjiinst  the  Bible,  pp.  .     285-290 

De  TocQDEvnxE,  his  opinion  of  increased  reverence 

for  Christianity  in  the  French  nation,  p.      -         ,         294 

q  .^JflobSni  "^o 

ni  ociboS  sdi  ^ninm^qyo  at  bin  «rd  ^zollio^M-'-''' 
^rS  »noQ  lo  sfqrao J  sdl 

1^1  Y^, {credited  too^t^r  on  account  of  learning  a^r^niiaTfeaiiO 

scicr^.:pp-    ;^         .         .         .         .         v?  ,>»>:/ 217-219 
ll^N^CWiKM  OF  Divine  Ervf.lation,  the  two  great,  are 

superstition  and  infidelity,  p.         .  ...         18 


S»2  INi^M. 

Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire,  a  good  history  of,  a 

great  desideratum — what  points  it  should  em- 
aOI-f;OI .    .t;^  /aid  aihtKl!)oIsDfix.liqqJSiinu-^nim8rd        40.43 

^pkNATidSM,  the  offspring  of  infidelity,  ppf"^  "l^^"^'.        819,  320 
FiANCfte,  le;4(iing  minds  of— greatly  changed  m  their 

^Franklin,  Benjashn,   his  overthrow  ot  tlie  French  ' 

scoffers,  pp.         .         :  "^ -67-69 

Frbdekic  of  Prussia,  his  credulity  and  superstitiori.  j^'^'*^^*'*^5 
.:j3al  lia  \il  xiihbhin  aid  -lol  hoilodoi  fXauAlI 

Cr. 

Galileo,  persecuted  for  the  publication  of  his  dis-       :.,  >.  5II 

coveries.  pp.       v.jjj  ^,1^4^   Diui   aon/noK  265,  266 

VI.t   ,3f^.  «.bjuresthcm.  pp  .         .    ,^,t- Hl>  moip66,  267 

publishes    his    Dialogi^es    and    is    agafn„  jj^^riojoH 

persecuted,  p.  rv3^,;j,^^.  .,^  ,,.',|  ,,}  ^..f,   268,  269 

melancholy  story  of  his  daughter,  pp.     .         269,  270 

his  vexation  and  unwise  impatience,  pp,       »    ,375-377 

G-EOLOGY,  instance  showing  how  (the  Scriptures  are  -    p 

illustrated  by  it  pp.  •    ,     -•         •         •  .      274,276 

^'■■^  '1   .' 

Gibbon,  the  distincruishinjij  charajcteristics  of  hi^  ipr,  ; 

^^  fidelity.  pp.,^,„Y,  ^^  ^j,^..^  „,.,.f  ,fd  .^off«rfI  .-^^feftP 


• 


Lis  *  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Homan  Empire '  !  ; '  i 

— the  artfulness  with  which  it  assails 

Christianity,   pp.                          ...  33-37 

its  diingcrous  tendencies,  pp.                  .         ,  39, 40 

■ ,  i 

his  relish  for  gross  sensjiiij^ty.  pp.    .         ,         .  38,  89 


ZB     -  q   ■  -  ^  '    -  V^ 


INDEX.  393 

Gibbon,  how  little  of  the  BiblCi^he  had  read.  pp.         ,        66^  77 
his    ridiculous    passion    for   whatever  was  "r^ 

'  'French,  pp.     ".       ^.      *  .        ^    f  •*  •  98-100 

his  mind  unhappily  neglected  in  his  youth.  j)p,  j  103-105 

Porson's  opinion  of  his '  Decline  and  Fall.'pp. .    296,  297 

his  infidelity  analyzed  b^'^^  various  cril4c;s.  ^^p^     ^  ^  297-302 

Goodwin,  Vr.  his  triumph  in  death,  p,  ^  .  ,^j„^-,  ^  ,<r.  yamT/ljJ^^^ 

lPabakkuk,  the  prophet,  quoted  by  Franklin,  pp.        .         67-69 
Hallet,  rebuked  for  his  infidelity  by  Sir  Isaac  New- 

ton.  p. 67 

„  iy  ■  Nii  1  a .  o  1 1 }    1  «>  ^h'ji II •>ORtb<T  ,03»TLU\ 0 

Heathen  PinLOSOPiiEiis,  confessions  or  their  own 
^'^'  >  ignorance  and  their  desire  for  a  revelation 
T9^2.-    from  God.  pp.       .        .        .T  "P'll  «:'^"i:'*     ng,  117 

Herodotds,  his  istatement  respecting  the  growth  of* 
G3-  '^  grapes  in  Egypt  explained,  and  the  arguments 
^"^^  t''    from  his  mistake  shewing  the  superior  antiqui- 

TTo-c    ty  of  the  Bible,  pp 292,  293 

^Hervet,  Jas.  his  joy  at  the  approach  of  death,  pp.         171,  172 

Historians,  ancient,  compared  with  modem,  pp.      .         214-216 

HOBBES,  his  *  Leviathan  '.p.        .         .         .  "      .         .         .27 

'ihl'iioiiaiJsib 
his  painful  dread  of  death,  pp.  .        ..         170,  171 

^0«ne,  Bishop,  his  keen  reply  to  Hume.  p. '^      .         .  .74 

Hume,  compared  with  Rousseau  and  VoItaSre.  pp.  28,  29 

how  little  of  the  Bible  he  had  read  "pi  ' ' .         .  .66 

V<«-v        evidence  of  his  want  of  sincerity,  pp.           .  .     79-82 

^^  t^       his  disgraceful  advice  to  a  young  clergyman,  pp.  81,  82 

C8  .-^     his  dishonesty  in  his  History  of  England,  p.  .     83 


89*  \^M^-i 

kiffr^^  candidate  for  the  ch^\^oj'.,>^riaqf,b^8fi  ,tTua<nMJil 
phy,  and  his  infidelity j.J!,Mttered,.I)i;  hj^  „ j  ,g.rau™Ml 
rejection  pp, .^^  .^^^,,,  ..,,|y .  ^. g.i,j^„.,  ^■„,.     97.  98 

how  sunounded  when  in  Paris,  pp.         .        ,  99,  320-32i 

*^  .»ij  6x1,^  ni 

left  to  himself  in  his  youth  pp.  .  103    104 

'"  '-";   ooiiji  iioLii  id). 

confessions  of  his  unhappincss.        .         .  153-156 

his  affectation  of  composure  at  the  approach 

^■^■'^'itKctuaJ  distress,  pp.     .       •.     ■I'l  ^*'"fi>     .     181,18-2 
*  '    his  cxtravagiint  admiratioh  of  itoui^s^hti  fcl- '  ' 

lowed  by  bitter  dcnuriciatibn  dt  llihi'^^J^ '''    306-309 
'"'''  mi.'itaken  story 'respecting  his  mother's  ttbat'h''' 

corrects  by  his  nephe^.' p. '-'^^^i^'J^J^.'if'^-^         310 

opinioti  pronounced  upon  him  By  DfjBc^fie'j^^'  311,  312 

^"''    '       opinion  by  Archbishop  Magee  pp.        .        •.         312,  314 

his  falsehood  exposed  by  Mr.  Brodie.  pp.  .     314-316 

if' I -'-invaming  against  him  by  Hannah  Morie.  pp.  3 17,  3 19 

denied  that  he  was  a  deist,  pp.  .         .321,  322 

Hu6S,  his  triumph  at  the  stake,  pp.  .     i  j.         188, 189 

laiPOOTURE,  tli^^^Hori'^e^^^^ik  '^l/dett^afdii'^^lcoMn^''*^^'^^^'^^^''*' 
'■■  -    '    to  the  number  of  those  engaged  in  framilig  if^  '  ' 

and  of  the  subjects  it  embraces,  pp.      .         .         .     48-51 
Infidelitt,  when  timid  and  treacherous,  p.  ,,t  j^^k^/  ^nj.  ^i^ifi.^Xi, 

when  most  able  tojuTjay  i^ience  in  appi^  ,T/:n.TA?.irnirT, 
,->  c.  rent  conflict  with  religion,  p.  .  19 

WiUf  between  it  an4  the  Bible,  a  war  of     ,v:os,mio\ 
.         ^> I  extermination,^ ^pv.,;^  0,0,1  bnim  llo  fioL  ^0,  21 

its  debasing  influence  upon  airueisense^qf  ^jp,  ^ly^oX, 
^^  ,\(::  :'    '       decency,  pp.     .         .       .^^^^  ^.,^,na  yd*  ao^  71,  72 


INDEX. 


5^ 


iNnDELTTT,  its  triimiplis  short.  pjf;^^^  ^*l^  ^^\  oi^hihcm^>  TO^I^llb 
iKKiDEi^,  in  tlie  «irly  centuries.  p[^'h^°''  ^l'^  ^^.  ^^'^^l  25 

'   '  '  not  equalling  in  ability  those  of  larertimesi  jp.  23 

m  the  age  of  Charles  2na  to  what  indcutea 

>  ''Jjo-(  aiii  iii  lloamirf  o)  J:  ■! 

for  their  fame.  p.       .         .         ...         28 

variety  of  their  attacks,  and  yet  how  little 

they  have  accomplished  against  Chris- 

SHI  .  I .  i  ''^''y-  PP-       •       .  •  .qci  :.a.i3^il>  buff?  ^^^'  '^^-^'^ 

their^^j^t  x>f  sipqerit^^-^^^j^^  Jmi5«>«aj.  •         ^^»  ^^ 
«OM(i<i  *^'®^  memoiys  consulted^, Psp^^^^^ij  ^j  j,^,;^.^,     .     C3,  G4 
tlieir  objections  unphilosophi^^^^^^j.^  uidAiS-i      C4-78 
Ott  their  motives  as  a  cl^\(ie3cjibcd,(pp^,5.,^^^^      .     88-91 

SE&  ,Ife  tlj^ii-TridicnlooB  credulity i?|;m^.tom)BPfpQroiniqo 
M  S  eS  1 8  taining  to  T^ligionJVp^orlarddyf  A  '(<I  noiaiqo   9:3-9o 

4>'&-fri8  ambitioaj[ffar.'distitiction,  a  knotiyofbrctfcHfaA  «id 
ei^  vtI8  ii#di^.  p^iuyjH  x,ii  cahUBnmr^u  aainiiivl 02-104 

■i'iS  J  SS  instances    of    thcit^qFteMeteS^ff  sAdatftofeoi^af^ 
68  r  ,88 1  Christianity,  pp.'  11         ^'^  ^^^ .^^  dqmnh t_  B^fecf'l'S^J 

Inquiry,  a  spirit  of,  awakened  tjr  Christianity,  pp.  209-'2\^ 

tiunit^^  p.rrjr!'^  rti-hn7>c*;r;o  osDfind  isdrftun  orf^  <^^»  ^31 

Janeway,  his  wish  to  (fieri^JK^'i^fi^iJ  bun  bjmil  Cr9iiw,,Trig^i2i^5i 
Jerusalem,  tft&ii  iAthens  of  ifs-da^'  fdr^'  &c^i^^  im^ 
•'■  taste,  p.         q  •9^'^S'^^'^  ^^^^^  iaiBaoD  Inoi    .         .         225 

Johnson,  Di^PSani'i:  h'i9'iiuifiT3te  ^pf&y^  fii^^lMinfim. 
^■'  '^-'^  tion  of  mind  from  God.  pp.    .         .   ^     .         .     107,  lOe 
Jones,  Sir  Wm.  extent  of  his  learning,  and  reverence 
^'f  *^  "  for  the  Bible,  pp.        .         .   -qq.X.'->a^?^i 26-128,  134,  13^ 


39G  INDEX. 

-3oi/p  vflaof/10  ^iinaitarlK)  ni  Is H4d  eiii' jTjaitjpaaTWoM 
Koran,  abandoned  aa  information  spreads,  p.       .  .     46 

\iiiQj.  8OJ3  .>:•!/ 1 

Jr  ^froaxi-l«i*j  La^jOiiu^i'jEi^^ili  bun 

LATiaiER,  his  prediction  wiieh  suffering  martyrdom,  p.  189 
Lawyers,  distinguished,  wlio  tare  embraced  Chris- 

tianity.  p •         •         .  •     120 

Leai>eks  m  the  ranks  of  infidehtj.  p.     .         .         .  .           62 

Letkonne,  his  explanation  of  the  representations  of 

■    „  ^      ,      ,  *tQ  .onuiii  to  Bj»ni 

the  temple  of  Denderah.  p.    .  .         .         .         .     290 

Library,  Alexandrian,  how  and  when  destroyed,  p.  210 

Light  of  the  World,  why  ik^  Redeemer  so  called,  pp.      206-208 

Literary    Institutions    that    ignore    Christianity, 

,    .    ^                  M'r)//-'jiv  v/oa 'i':»r>)rr:,i'    -.'.1  //:o:i.io;iAJ/i 
their  fate,  pp .         232-235 

Locke,   as  a  metaphysician,  his  testimony  to  the 

Scriptures,  pp.         .         ^    -  '  j   -  '  ^^        ^         ^     126,137 
o'ln'juhffi  il  o'^il  errf  I0  stffobbni . 


lih'i  Hid  n- 


Macintosh,  Sir  Jas.  his  criticism  on  Gibboa.  pp.  ■  301,  302 
Magee,  Archbishop,  his  views  of  the  blasphemy  and 

impiety  displayed  in  Hume*s  writings,  pp.         »  312-314 

Magicians  of  Egypt,  their  infidelity,  p.           .         .  .         22 

Martyrs  to  Philosophy,  pp 263,  264,  270 

Melancthon,  his  composure  when  dying,  p.  .  189 
MiiXER,  Hugh,  his  advice  to  improve  the  education 

of  the  clergy  in  physical  science,  pp.         .         .  282,  283 

Milton,  his  rank  among  Poets,  pp.           ...  123,  124 

Mohammedanism,  enfeebles  and  debases  the  intellect,  p.  210 


INBfiX.  397 

MoNTESQUiEUj'liis  belief  in  Christianitj  unjustly  ques- 

^)y  tioned — mistake  as  to  his  *  Lettres  .' 

Pcrsanes ' — his  *  Esprit  dcs  Lois,' 

and  the  unequivocal  testimony  it 

contains  to  the  truth  of  the  Chris- 
es I  :q  .raobT^JiiMi  ■'  •  .'.   >'-'^"  fiGiio(T:j'iq  hia^i-uri. 

.    „^  .      tian  religion,  pp.    ,    ,  .      •  ,    i  •         323-326 

his  dislike  of  the  Jesuits,  p.  .  327 

More,  Hannah,  her  thankfulaess  for  death,  pp.  193,  194 

her  earnest  caution  against  the  ^vrit- 

lo  pnr.ilr.t/f'f-n  ,    •    mII    !■     •    ^         •  •■  i  i  »J 

inj's  of  Hume.  pp.      .         s       ..         •         •         316,  317 

MozAiiT,  affecting  scene  at  hia  death,  pp.     .         .         .     194-198 

01.:  .i{  .hovDTj^-jl,  ri'idv/  fim:  v/oif  >.• 

80i:-D0S     !qq.bDlIr/  'i-jf^^  ' 

^  Napoleon,  his  character  now  viewed  with  sobriety- — 

interest  felt  in  his  welfare  by  chris- 
orli    '::^     7.'  ..i-  -:  -t    ^-  i     ■-    ..       •    ■•  ■'•  *'    .■    -     ;     ^     '  ' 

^„,  ^^^  tians  after  his  reverses,  pp.    .     ^  ..  r.     327,328 

incidents  of  his  life  having  an  influence 

on  his  religious  sentiments,  pp.        .         329-332 
remtirkable  confession  of  his  faith,  pp.  334-346 

^^^"^•IrfXtlONS,  raised  from  degradation  only  by  some  im-    ^^""^ 

pulse  from  without,  p.   .         .         .         .         .  226 

1 1  r.-SfeivpoET,  Sir  Francis,  his  profligacy,  and  despair,  pp.       183-186 
^''    Nkwton,   Sir  Isaac,   his  achievements    in  Philoso- 
Ot£  ,li)ii,Ui)Ji  phj-PP.         .         .  124,125,137 

'^"^  ^  his  '  Commentaries  * — striking 

prediction  in.  pp. 138,  139 

H8Se£8S 

OlSr  Ubjk'TkAcs  to  the  Bible,  various  and  diversified,  pp.         14,  15 


398  -  INDEX. 

p. 


«fll 


pAi&AN  nations  compared  witi?  Christian  in  learning     r/ ^y^.  joil 

and  science,  pp. 213-21  < 

Patj^y,  his  observation  on  Gibbo'^'s  scoffs,  p.         .         .  7^5 

:p^UL,  the  joy  he  derived  fropa  faith  in  the.<3b]spet«p^/^^^f'I^-l'6''> 

Payson,  his  exultation  in  death,  pp.   mIj  lo  ffoiiqiioaoj^  ^4^2,  17J< 

Philosophers,  who  professed  faith  in  Chrifftiaaity^ppi  "■V20;n'^t 

Philosophy,  when  hostile  to  religion,  pp^  :>^,,wai.iiafeiil  <d44'^4T^ 

why  christians  warned  agiunst  it.  pA-'Auv.nii^-'^^   ^vj.nr.'^AH'j^V' 

Physical  Science,  at  present  r^p^^ly  extending  ippJ^riii^  16,  IT 

the  evidences  of  Christianity  to  be  contested 

on  the  field  of.  pp  .         .         .         .         .     -^81.283 

duty  of  the  chqrch  Jt>6  provider  foi'  thfe  c6n test,  jpjn  %%\'\  84 

Physicians,  distinguished,  Whci  b6liev6d'  in  tlii  Bi^tc!  pV '     '^'^'Y/o 

Poets,   distinguished,   who   wore    beliovei*^  in^'  the  ""' 

Bible.  pp.,a;  i^x.nttitftoH.  o(l!.«'>iiioi;bni//«:looO  ^//^^  ^^^^ 
,    ,     <   y     ;  Pant7  lo  riiwoig  oih 

Kami  s,  of  Paris,  hia^earrjr^e^^^^  iP'^t  ix  ,:4MiT 

phy.  p.         .         .  ,^     ',*iM      w»  ^.3  I.  )cfi-'j<  ::i  v^oil    260 

Refoiimatiox,  in  Philosophy  followiq4,by  F^&iiaation  aid  ,TaA.ri6T 
in  Keligion.  pp.       .         .       ^^^„j,^^  rrw^ldea  ni^aT"*"iGO 

Reformers,  as  Luther  &c.  their  influence  in  over- 
throwing the  authority  of  the  Schoolmen,  pp,   ,    2oa-2o)t:  I 

Eeugion,  low  state  of  in  the  church,  a  fearful  source 

of  infidelity,  pp 100-102 

Revolution  in  learning,  how,  at  what  time,  and  to 

what  extent  produced,  pp.  ;:uf^tota*'^^«Mll  m  *»^' §48.052 


INDKX.  8in) 

HocuKSTi-.i^  E;:rl  of,  cxplain.s  tiicc;aiSi!  of  iiitldelity.  pp.      bO,  bJ 

his    confessions    und   reciintation  quoted,  pp.         305,  30G 

HoussEAU,  his  confessions  in  his  '  Emilius.   pp.  .         84-87 


tSHA>TBSBURif,;his*  Characteristics/ p.     ]  • 'i;^*- ■^"  ;-  ,         27 

-  his  description  of  the  credulity  of  ihifiaels.  p.  .         94 

Simon,  the  magician,  his  character  and  spirit,  p.       .  .         25 

Solomon,  his  eminence  in  .«cience  and  learning,  pp.  .   224,  2.?5 
J^ATKSMEN,    distinguished,    who  believed  in  the   in- 

11  ;^}\  spiratipp  s4  the  BibltJ  jfijy.            .         .         .  1 19,  1 .0 

:  .MS:.  181:  ^^  . 

Talleyrand,  his  unhappinesa  at  his  deaths  pji;'  '  j>  '^o  '{^\i\      183 

Taylor,   Rowland,   his  prcsQ^t^-t,o  his  son  when  8uf-'>  ,?'//r>t*'''""  ' 

fering  martyrdopi,/|^,j.  (^    r,,  .  .         .         .         .169 

W.  Cooke,  vindicates  the  Pentateuch  as  to 

the  growth  of  vines  in  Egypt,  pp.       .         .         .  291-293 

Tfjvmm.e,  at  Jerusalem,  type  of  GWcian  Architecture,  p.  222 

Tennent,  Jno.  his  exultation  when  dying,  p.     .         .         .     191 

Time,  a  test  which  always  overthrows  imposture,  pp.  45,  46 


o:v.    how  it  argues  for  the  Bible,  pp.  .         .         .     46-48 

Toplady,  his  happiness  when  dying,  pp.  *   '        .        '.-    200-200 
ritAVEijs^in  Eastern  countries,  cumulative  evidence 

in  favor  of  the  Bible  derived  from  them.  pp.         293,  2U4 
TiibKCHiN,  Voltaire's  physician,  his  reputation,  pp.         178,  349 

V. 

Vines  and  vineyards,  cultivation  of  in  Egypt  as  de- 
scribed in  the  Pentati-uch.  pp.   y)9iy|xnq  i«»<*V        291-293 


400  INDEX. 

Virgil,  resemblance  of  his  4  th  Eclogue  to  Isaiah's 

description  of  the  Messiah's  reign,  p.       .         ,  2*28 

Voltaire,  compared  with  Rousseau  and  Hume.  p.  .         30 
effects    of    their    infidelity  and   of    that    of 

their  coadjutors  in  the  last  century,  pp.              .  30,  31 

a  master  in  the  school  of  French  infidelity  p.  .          43 
bitterness  of  his  language  when  speaking  of 

the  Saviour,  p.         .         .         .         •         ,         ,  71 

confessions  of  his  wretchedness,  pp.      .     .    .  15",*,  153 

his  agony  of  mind  in  his  last  illness,  pp.        .  175-178 

his  confession  at  the  approach  of  death,  pp.  349-353 

Vossius,  his  ludicrous  credulity,  p.            ....  93 

w. 

Washington,  his  greatness  of  character  and  humble 

reverence  for  the  Bible,  pp.  ...         128-130 

Webster,  Daniel,  his  eminence  as  a  statesman,  and 

the  humility  of  his  faith  in  the  Bible,  pp.     130-132,  135 
state  of  mind  at  death,  pp.  ...        354-358 

WiLBERFORCE,  his  happincss  when  dying,  pp.      .         .    192,  198 

WiLKiNS,  his  reference  to  the  "  Temple  at  Jerusalem 

the  type  of  Grecian  Architecture."  p.  .  222 

his  reputation  as  an  architect,  p,  .         •     363 

describes  the  most  brilliant  era  of  the  He- 
brew nation,  pp.  .  .         .         ..     364, 365 

shows  how  far  the  temples  of  Greece  were 

copied  from  the  temple  at  Jerusalem,  pp.         •        365-373 


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